Not Done Yet
by Chrys-DASL
Summary: The women of Elwood City aren't done yet, and neither am I. Full summary inside. This piece is on HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The women of Elwood City have plenty of problems, problems that seem overwhelming, but they aren't going to let these problems stop them. In this piece, each of these women has a problem, but none of them will let these problems stop them. They're Not Done Yet.

For reference, Kate is 15, DW is 18, and Arthur's generation is 22 years old.

Warnings: Rated T for adult situations, drug references, some foul language, and minor sexual content. More warnings may be added as needed, but the rating will not exceed T/PG-13.

CHAPTER ONE

They were gone. Jane reached for her nightstand and slid the drawer open. She leaned over to really peek in there to see if the bottle was there or not, to see if it was empty or full. She wasn't surprised to find the bottle was completely gone.

The previous day, Jane had gone in for dental surgery to get a dead tooth removed. The surgery itself was painful, and her doctor prescribed enough hydrocodone to get her through the next week pain-free.

But her husband was an addict. David had burned his hand very badly four years ago, so badly that he needed surgery and opioids to get through the pain…and then he never stopped. For the next year, he was able to get more pills from his burn injury and the grafting surgery to fix it, but then his doctor cut him off, fearful that he had an addiction. David was already there, and within days, he had taken some of Jane's pills that she had left over from a previous knee surgery. Then it was Thora's medicine cabinet, fake trips to the ER claiming painful sprains, and recently he had intentionally injured himself just to get pills.

As Jane lay there, forced to take simply Tylenol for her surgery woes, she wondered what she was going to do about the situation. Kate had a knee surgery coming up in a few weeks. She'd tweaked her knee during soccer season, but it had never gotten better. The doctor suggested she needed the surgery so she could grow properly and without pain, so Jane discussed the matter with her daughter. Kate wanted to wait until the school year was over, so they scheduled the surgery for the Monday after school ended. That was three weeks away, and Jane was petrified.

So far she'd been able to keep her husband's addiction a secret from the kids. Kate had no idea, DW had no idea, and Arthur hadn't been home to have any idea. That was the way she wanted it, but since Kate was about to have surgery, a painful surgery where her pills would be at risk from her father's needy hand, Jane knew his secret was probably about to come out. She just didn't know what to do about it.

Francine stood over the layout board and admired her handywork. She'd received a job the previous month editing at a local magazine, and the next issue sat before her on the interactive board. Francine looked over it with a smile on her face when she heard the door click behind her. Before she could even react, the leading editor had entered. He placed his right hand on the edge of the interactive board to steady himself. His left hand? It was on her right ass cheek, gripping it so snugly that Francine knew he could probably feel her underwear.

Her smile and happiness faded instantly. Her work helped her forget that the boss she admired for years was a scumbag piece of trash who loved women, and not in the right way. He was always touching her, always trying to get her to bend over. His eyes were always on her, and Francine felt trapped.

Because she was so new in the position, she was afraid to approach Human Resources (HR) for fear they'd let her go on the spot. She was also afraid to speak up to such a leader. He was the best magazine editor in all of Metropolis, and Francine needed his connections in order to get anywhere in her career. What she didn't need? Well that grip for one thing.

"This looks good," Thornton nodded, his hands still in their original positions as a slight smirk formed on his lips. That smirk wasn't from the layout. It was from the grab he was performing.

Francine slinked away and rushed to the filing cabinet nearby, "I had to scrap this entry. The writer was told to edit into our formats so we'd stop having to do it for them. They refused so I cut their entry."

Thornton agreed with her choice, "That's fine. I'll handle the repercussions," he said in a low voice. Francine could tell he didn't like her walking away like that. He wasn't done yet, but Francine didn't care. She was starting to feel sick in her stomach, and she knew this guy was the cause. Thornton cleared his throat, "Well, I want the final layout sent to me before five so I can give final approval tomorrow. Are you close?"

"I'll send it right now. Remember, I have to leave early today?" Francine asked. Thornton nodded and agreed to the new arrangements. He left, and as soon as he was gone, Francine sighed heavily and sent him the layout. Then she got her things and left the office, heading towards an appointment she didn't actually have.

Fern was almost afraid to open the two letters from publishers. She had just gotten off her shift at the Greasy Burger and decided to check the mail. She'd sent off manuscripts weeks ago, so when she saw the responses, she was happy to finally have them just to get their final word. Seeing that she had a cardboard box in her room filled with rejection letters, she doubted she would have any success.

After glancing through the letters, she realized it had happened again, but this time was much worse. She had been barred from submitting to one of the agencies until she had a legitimate agent helping her with submissions. Fern wanted to do the work herself, but she'd considered getting an agent, to the point that she'd sent some manuscripts to a few in the Metropolis area. None were interested; she'd been rejected by just two and decided against sending to a third, fourth, or beyond.

Fern sighed as she tucked the letters under her arm and walked upstairs. Her childhood home was exactly how it had been years ago, and now she was twenty-two with the kind of job a sixteen-year-old should have. She was miserable. Her college plans to be a writer failed when she couldn't do the college math they required her to do. Tutoring didn't help and Fern's GPA fell so far that she lost a scholarship she'd won for her writing in previous years.

With no money, she had no choice but to move back in with Mom and Dad (namely because you had to be enrolled to live on-campus in the dorms). She got a few odd jobs around town, but the Greasy Burger had been her home for the last two years. She worked the midday shift, which caused her to push through the lunchtime rush with a handful of other people. She hated it, but the hours helped her write every day, once she washed off the fast food smell.

After her shower, Fern sat down with her latest work. It didn't have the fire that her older pieces did, but she was going with an idea that she hoped would gain attention. The protagonist was similar to another popular character of the time, and the antagonist had all the traits they needed to make a likeable villain. It wasn't really a mystery, more of a drama with a murder element, but it was something to work on that might make her more than minimum wage at a fast food joint. She'd have to keep going despite her gut telling her that she was selling out. She just needed to keep writing, and one day her book deal would come.

Sue Ellen looked up from her notes to jot down the latest name being scribbled on the board. The language wasn't tripping her up like it used to, but attending college in France had its own issues. She'd been there for two years to fulfill some dream of her mother's, and it was starting to take its toll. She was working on a graduate-level degree in France in history, which was amazing. But being so far from home? That had gotten old over a year-and-a-half ago.

Her goal, until her mother pressured her, was to reenroll at Metropolis University for their graduate program in world history. She already knew her professors, and she was already comfortable with what her requirements were. It was a dream, and she submitted her application to attend without a second thought.

When her mother saw the acceptance level, she immediately showed disappointment and started exhibiting depressed behavior. Sue Ellen had no choice but to ask her mother why she was so upset, and when she shared her dream with Sue Ellen, she felt guilty for not talking to her first. She decided to check it out, and she found a French university that would take her current credentials and give her the equivalent of the degree she wanted. It would be three years of what Sue Ellen considered to be hard labor, but her fluency in French thanks to her undergraduate language courses made her comfortable.

Within six months, she knew she'd made a mistake. The course material wasn't what she expected, nor was the workload. She knew graduate school was harder, much harder than any undergraduate program, but she never expected that all-nighters would become a regular occurrence. Sue Ellen was chronically sleep deprived, and her grades showed that she was barely getting by. She was afraid of failing, namely because she would lose her place and have to admit defeat to her mother.

But that idea was starting to look pleasurable.

When class dismissed, Sue Ellen took a bus to her apartment, a microscopic, toiletless room in a tall yet narrow building that Sue Ellen had grown to hate. Living in the heart of France had many downsides, and this was one of them. Sue Ellen had hoped to bring a bookcase. That dream disappeared when she realized she lived on the fifth floor of a building without an elevator. When she saw her room was only slightly larger than a shoe box, she had everything shipped back except for her clothes, which were hung and stacked everywhere she could find a place.

Tiny living was starting to make her sick, but the atmosphere in the country was making her feel worse. Terrorist attacks weren't a distant nightmare anymore, and both her and her parents were worried about Sue Ellen becoming a victim in these attacks. Sue Ellen wanted to leave as soon as things started getting tense, but she was only halfway through her program. Now she was only slightly further along and things were worse.

As Sue Ellen flipped through a French newspaper and saw the horrors of both France and beyond, she wanted out, but she had no idea how to leave. She didn't want to shatter her mother's dreams, and she knew her former classmates that followed her semi-dead travel blog were happy for her success in a foreign land. But Sue Ellen was miserable, and she felt as if she was living someone else's life. She needed a change before she got too fed up, but she had no idea what to do. Part of her knew she needed to stay put to make everyone happy, but a larger part of her was ready to run off to somewhere, anywhere but here, to see what else she could find.

The sound of crying woke Jenna from a light nap. She felt her belly and realized she was still pregnant. The crying was coming from her dummy next to her. It cried loudly for some reason or another, so she tended it to it. Tears streamed down her face as the fear came back, but she wiped them away as she heard her boyfriend thunder into the den from his bedroom, his headset still on.

"Can't we just take its batteries out or something?" Frank asked. Jenna, once again, assured him they couldn't just remove the batteries. Frank scoffed, "Well I don't see the point. No real baby acts like that."

"Well it's good practice, not that you would know that," Jenna said fiercely.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means! You move me into this hellhole after knocking me up, claiming this will be an equal partnership, but you stay in your room all day playing video games instead of helping me clean up, helping me with this stupid e-baby, or getting a job! You're pathetic, and I should just move back in with my mom!" Jenna spat.

Frank's demeanor changed immediately, "You're not going anywhere. You are going to have my baby here, in my home, and you will take care of it. I never said anything about anything."

Jenna wanted to tell him that he had, but she knew better. Him moving her out of Elwood City and into a tiny, ramshackle house an hour away was a ploy, a sign that Jenna should've seen. She was trapped here with him, an abusive deadbeat who expected her to do everything. If she didn't do as he said, there would be consequences. Sometimes it was a slap across the face, but when he was really mad, he locked her in the bathroom for days. The bathroom was half broken; the toilet didn't work and the sink's bowl was cracked, making it too messy to use. The tub halfway worked, but it hadn't been cleaned in forever. She wasn't allowed to touch this room because it was her prison, her little place of hell.

He hadn't put her there in a while, but her outburst won her a night or two in there. Frank had no second thoughts about putting an eight-months-pregnant woman into the room. He threw the e-baby out the front door, causing the crying to dwindle before crackling to a stop. Jenna couldn't help but cry as she sat in her tiny hell. How did she ever get to this place?

Muffy sauntered through the lobby, her large white sunglasses still gracing her face as she moved to the express elevator. She held her head high as the doors opened, revealing an empty car. She stepped in quickly and pressed the Door Close button to make sure she stayed alone. She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them. She checked her phone, which was nearly dead, to see how long she'd been at it. By her calculations, she'd been awake for four days straight.

She was back at her high-end condo in Metropolis for the sole purpose of taking the day to herself. Working for her father's corporation, a property management firm, was difficult work, so difficult that she worked tireless hours just to stay ahead. Ed paid her decently for her work, which was good. He and her mother had cut her off the day she graduated from Metropolis University with a business degree. If she wanted money, she'd have to earn it, but they offered her a spot at the new company. Muffy took it, which helped her work alongside her brother, Chip. Well, more like below him.

Muffy was a grunt despite her Crosswire name, and Muffy was beginning to doubt her parents' kindness during her childhood. They spoiled her endlessly for years, and it didn't end when she graduated from high school. They paid her way through college, providing her with a high-end apartment just blocks from the school. Bailey helped them hire another man, Charles, to drive her to and from her classes and other destinations, helping her college years be even more blissful than her grade school years.

But everything changed when she graduated. The lease on her apartment was up, so she had to leave, and the driver was suddenly gone. Muffy was on her own with no resources. Thanks to her connections with the company, she was able to stay in a penthouse five blocks from the office, but she was really house sitting for the people who really owned it. They were investors with the company and respected Muffy's work, but they weren't going to let her have the apartment.

When she entered, she realized they were home. Luggage was piled near the entrance, and judging by the noises emanating from deep within the penthouse, they were breaking back in the queen-sized bed Muffy had slept in for the last six months. Muffy grew nauseous, but then she grew worried. Where was she going to go?

Ladonna looked up from her breakfast. The sun had finally come up enough to cover their yard with bright light. The moment was quiet and beautiful, but it wouldn't last. Within moments, she heard the grunts from the master bedroom. Ladonna shoved the last bit of her toast into her mouth and chewed quickly as she rinsed her plate and washed her hands. She rushed into the room just before she finished.

As she expected, her mother had seen the light and began her day. Today was one her of her bad days, and upon seeing Ladonna, she started trying to get herself out of bed. She flailed and cried out as she moved towards the opposite side of the bed. She didn't recognize her daughter. No, this was a stranger that she had to get away from if she wanted to keep her life, not that she had much of one.

Ladonna noticed the signs when she moved back to Louisiana with her mother for college. Her parents had divorced while she was in middle school, and throughout high school, they worked out what they were going to do. Ladonna was homesick, so going back south for college seemed like the right fit, and her mother decided to go with her. Bud and the others remained in Elwood City with their father, but these women went on a grand adventure back home.

But things weren't right. Ladonna would come home from classes and find her mother wandering the property, not knowing where she was or how she even got there. She constantly called Ladonna the wrong name, starting with the name of her siblings before moving to more obscure names. Ladonna looked them up, and at first they were her mother's siblings, cousins, and other family members from her past. Then the names became unrecognizable. No one was named Susanna. No one was named Mary Sue. She picked those names up somehow, but none were right.

Ladonna finally got up the courage to talk to their family physician. Her mother had a yearly physical, so she forced herself along. Once in the room, the doctor already saw the signs. When Ladonna pressured him before leaving, he told her what he thought—her mother had early-onset Alzheimer's, which wasn't good. She gradually went downhill, and Ladonna had to drop out of school to take care of her.

Now Ladonna was twenty-two, and this was her life. Her mother was rarely lucid. She rarely knew who her daughter was, where she was, who she was, and so on. The world was small for her yet her schedule was rigid. The sun awoke her, then she would try to get up on her own. She often forgot where she was going, and she fell without assistance. Ladonna had to help her with everything, but it was getting ever harder. Her mother often wet herself because she no longer remembered what it meant to need to go to the restroom and how to get there. Eating was just as difficult, especially on days when Ladonna was the enemy. She couldn't feed herself, so it was up to Ladonna, if she could get it done at all.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and beyond, Ladonna's day revolved around her mother. The only beauty she had was at night, when her mother slept with the sun, snoring softly in her room. During that time, Ladonna could finally clean the house, do laundry, and think about her life.

Last night she thought about her family in Elwood City. None of them knew what was going on with her mother. Whenever her siblings would call, Ladonna would lie and tell them she was in the garden or out with her local friends. In reality, they hadn't made contact with any of the locals. Her mother had forgotten about them anyway, so why should Ladonna try to maintain the relationships? None of them could help her right now. No one could.

Ladonna was on an island surrounded by her mother's illness, but things were becoming grim. She was beginning to feel like she could no longer take care of her mother, but she didn't know what to do with her. She didn't want to pawn her off on a nursing home, but she needed help around the house. The doctor had given her local pamphlets that gave her resources, and she found herself studying them almost daily. Her mother's symptoms were at their peak. It would only be a matter of time before she would be completely out of it all the time with zero recognition whatsoever.

Ladonna hated it, but she had to handle this problem on her own. She'd put up with her mother a little while longer, and she would keep her secret another day.

Bitzi looked up from the bar as the guy she'd been checking out for the last hour finally turned to give her a better view. She sighed heavily as her eye finally locked onto the wedding band on his left hand. She wondered if he was married or not, and the way he pushed back shots was only further evidence. He was almost too tipsy to hold himself up on the barstool, and as Bitzi gestured for a refill, the bartender cut off the once-attractive guy. Bouncers were immediately summoned. This hot drunk wasn't going down without a fight.

"What can I get you?"

"You know what, never mind," Bitzi smiled, sliding a twenty to the bartender as she lowered herself from the stool, "Keep the change," she added, grabbing her purse and heading towards the door. The bartender, who she thought was named Robby, was a regular at the bar, though Bitzi was still there more often. He knew her well, and he nodded to her. He realized that tonight just wasn't her life.

Ever since the paper passed a policy where coworkers could not, under any circumstances, have a relationship of any sort that could be considered sexual in nature, she'd been barhopping and frequenting dating apps in an attempt to find a man. Bitzi was lonely now that Buster had left home, and she knew this was about the only way she was really going to get anywhere in the dating world.

As she walked up the street, the cool night air helped her sober up. She tucked her jacket a little tighter around her as she came to the bus stop. There would be one last line tonight, and she knew she needed to be on it. Bitzi checked the schedule and saw she didn't have long to wait, so she stood and looked around the area. Elwood City was most beautiful at night, especially after ten o'clock when almost everyone was gone from the streets. The night life in the area was lacking, and the bar Bitzi frequented was really inside a chain franchise that closed sharply at midnight. They were closed on Sundays too, at least the bar half, but it was a better location than Eli's Pub, which was open until four and had some of the worst people Elwood City had to offer. When a bar fight is needed even for a brief bathroom run, it's time to find somewhere else.

Bitzi's frustration faded as the bus came into view. She was sick of this game, and she wondered if tonight would be the night she finally decided to give up this stupid game. She'd keep the dating apps, not that they were helping any, but the barhopping needed to stop.

"Hey, Bitzi," the bus driver said in monotone as she boarded the bus. Bitzi swiped her card and took a seat behind the driver. No one else was on the bus, and no one else got on along the route. The bus driver dropped her off right outside her condo complex, and Bitzi walked inside without incident. She put away her things and sank into bed without a second thought. Yep, she was done.

Belinda looked up from her chart and saw he was out of bed again. Her trouble patient, an old man whose mind was fading, just couldn't stay in his room. And since he'd just had surgery, he had a blood trail down his arm from a ripped out IV. Belinda sighed as she and her fellow nurses jumped on the guy, and soon he was back in bed again with a new IV in a different place along him. When he was settled, he was strapped into the bed, which caused more protests, but it was doctor's orders—if he got up again, he'd get strapped in.

Belinda was sick of this endless cycle, but she'd been working graveyard shifts for over a year now. There was no way out of it, according to her boss, but Belinda knew otherwise. Her son, Binky, had some friends that had become nurses, some of them inside Elwood City General Hospital. Despite their young age and inexperience, two of the five nurses he knew were now working better shifts to accommodate their families.

Despite Mei-Lin, Belinda was at the hospital all night, which caused her to sleep all day. Her daughter was fifteen years old and needed her mother, but losing sleep to do anything was too much for Belinda. She was always with the problem patients. She was always fighting battles while at work. She couldn't just take time to be with her daughter when she should be sleeping. She just couldn't do it, and it was starting to make her miserable.

Her husband ran the house, a task he was starting to get sick of, and he often left notes letting Belinda know how much they miss her. Because Charles worked first shift, he was gone before Belinda got home, and Mei-Lin was always on her way to school. By the time Belinda left for work, her husband was going to pick up Mei-Lin from band practice. On occasion, they'd see each other at red lights along the way, but usually, Belinda went days without seeing her family.

As she finished documenting her problem patient's crazed behavior, she thought about something a coworker had suggested before she took a job at another hospital in Metropolis. She told Belinda to file a report against the hospital, letting officials know their work schedules were unfair. She could write the director first and see if that would be enough of a threat to change things, but part of Belinda wanted the shock factor. She wanted the hospital to pay for keeping her prisoner like this. Belinda wanted revenge, but she didn't know how to get it. She just knew she needed it soon.

Anita could smell the alcohol on his breath as he sauntered in. Her husband had been drinking in his office again, and judging by his stance, he didn't care. He nearly fell forward as he took off his shoes, causing him to leave his left shoe on as he got into bed. Anita groaned but said nothing. She just grabbed her pillow and cellphone and moved into the other room.

She'd been resisting such changes. Ever since her son, Alan, made his way through college just to refuse graduate school and accept a low-paying office job in Chicago. His parents had scrounged to make sure he had everything he needed, but his sudden decision was a low blow. His father took it hard, turning to the drink to cope with the pain of his intelligent son crippling under the pressure. Anita saw no point in it, and it was her goal to start trying to franchise her business in other cities now that she was having to pull longer hours to accommodate the demand. Now that he was forcing her out of her own bed, part of Anita wanted to leave entirely, getting out of town and out of her dead-end marriage.

As she settled into the guest bedroom, Anita wondered what she could do. She wanted to stay in her home and keep her life, but it was becoming too hard to bare. Her husband was in the way like never before, and she wondered how she could get him away from her and her business without causing too much hardship.

She wanted to talk to someone, anyone, but she didn't really have anyone to call. The only alternative was calling Alan in the morning, but she doubted he would want to talk. Ever since his decision to skip graduate school, he'd been very secretive, and they only found out about his low-level job when he was covered in an article in a local Chicago paper, an article Anita found on accident. She didn't understand why the men in her life were acting the way they were, but she knew she needed to find some sort of solution and fast.

But for now, she needed sleep. She flipped off the lamp, closed her eyes, and slipped into a restless sleep.

Molly rubbed James's head as she sat down with a bowl of popcorn beside him. James was eating straight from the bag Molly had popped moments before, and now he was watching the previews attached to the DVD they were renting. Molly saw no point in them, but she wanted her brother to have fun. He'd just gotten through a recent wave of tests with high marks, so she wanted to reward him. Besides, it kept his mind off of everything else.

A few months after Molly left home to live with friends while attending college, James messaged her and told her their mother was dating. Within weeks, it was clear the guy was an abusive scumbag, a guy their mother tried desperately to get away from. Over the next few years, she tried restraining orders and other solutions, but nothing worked.

Then the day after James graduated from high school, Molly got the call. Their mother had been murdered on her way to work, and the suspect was in custody. It was who they expected it to be, that abusive scumbag she'd fought so hard to get away from. When Molly reunited with James, he was shaken. Their mother had told him the previous evening that things were looking up because there was a warrant out for his arrest. He'd robbed a convenience store for cigarettes and the police were looking for him. According to a letter he left at the scene, he wasn't going to go down without a fight, but instead of fighting the police, he went after the woman he blamed for his hardships.

Molly and James were devastated, but life had to move forward. Molly was wrapping up her program to become a dental hygienist, so she got a job, started renting a house, and took in James to help him through college. He needed therapy, and Molly was able to get that for him by writing to local therapists and letting them know their situation. Neither of them had insurance anymore, but things were looking up. Molly had benefits now and she passed them onto her brother. Things seemed nice, but Molly wondered how long that would last.

She hadn't told James about her symptoms. It started as heartburn, so Molly did some online research and changed her diet to keep the burning at bay. But the solution was short-lived, so she decided to use her new benefits to see what was going on. While most of her was healthy, the doctor was concerned about her symptoms. Women her age usually only developed severe heartburn quickly when they were pregnant, but Molly didn't even have a partner, let alone the possibility of a baby. He referred her to a gastrologist, and she wanted to run a scope down to see what she could find. Something wasn't right, so Molly went in for a biopsy to see what the questionable areas were like.

That was three weeks ago, and Molly knew she could get the call any day. She hadn't gone online for solutions (for obvious reasons), but she already knew what it could be just from gut feeling. She knew that she had cancer. What she didn't know was her prognosis.

Prunella tapped her fingers as she waited at the window. She was at the hospital, again, because of her sister, the hypochondriac. Rubella always thought she had something, from lupus to AIDS to everything else. If it had a definition, Rubella would read that definition and swear she had whatever it was talking about. She even thought she had sickle cell anemia once despite not being of the race that typically had the disease. It was troubling, especially when a very busy Prunella needed to get to work the next morning. Instead she was here, picking up her sister from yet another hospital stay.

When Rubella appeared, Prunella thought she could leave without incident, but a doctor accompanied her sister. He left her, still in a hospital gown, at the top of a hallway with a nurse. He approached and shook Prunella's hand, introducing himself as Dr. Mano. Prunella nodded and tried to hear him out.

"I'm not a general practitioner or a specialist, but I know why you're worried. Your sister is a very sick young woman, but it's not of the physical illnesses she assumes herself to have," Dr. Mano explained.

Prunella squinted, "You're a mental health professional. Someone finally figured out that my sister is crazy."

"I don't like that terminology, but her GP recommended that she fill out an evaluation, so she did. It was a psych evaluation, and your sister shows signs of depression and suicidal tendencies. We've told her that we're taking her to a facility that will help her feel better, and she's agreed to go with us. You see, it goes beyond depression. She seems delusional, and it appears that she sometimes hears and sees things that aren't there."

Prunella swallowed, "I know what you're trying to say. Our mother ended up having some severe mental illnesses. I spent my last two years of high school living with my aunt because of her, and I've always worried one or both of us would inherit the illness."

Dr. Mano nodded, "Well, some of these mental illnesses have been proven to be genetic, so that could be what's going on here. If you don't mind, I would like to review your mother's records. Here's my card and that number is how you can contact me. Your sister will be at Grandview Research Hospital for three days through her evaluation. It could be nothing that we find, but her GP didn't want to take that chance."

"No, I understand," Prunella said firmly as she tucked the doctor's business card into her wallet. Prunella sighed, "Rubella has been doing this for a few years now, and enough is enough. She always thinks she has something physical wrong with her, but maybe she's been wrong all along. Maybe she's been mentally ill the entire time, and if she is, I trust you to take care of it. Now, if we're done here, I have work at five tomorrow."

"Go. I already have your number if I need to contact you," Dr. Mano said. Prunella nodded before rushing back to her car. She took a deep breath as she gripped the steering wheel. She couldn't believe what was happening to her sister, but Dr. Mano's ability to find the real illness in her sister gave Prunella some comfort. She drove home and slept better than she had in weeks.

Marina read over the paperwork carefully, her nimble fingers flowing over the words. When she was done reading, she nodded with a wide smile to her colleague, Anthony Parker. Together they were teachers at Elwood City Academy for the Blind, and they had met up for dinner so they could discuss their lesson plans.

"I think that's a really fun activity. Oh, how did they take your field trip request?" Marina questioned.

Anthony laughed, "Well, they haven't said no yet, so I guess that's something positive. I think they'll decide within the next week or so. That exhibit starts in early April, so they need to get started on the paperwork. There's a lot of planning that goes into these things, a lot more than you expect when you first get here. You don't see all of that when you're in school."

"Exactly," Marina nodded. She sipped her drink and passed Anthony's paper back to him, "I'm hoping we get to hold camp this year. Money is tight and donors aren't really doing much right now, so the school might not have enough money."

"They'll find a way. They always do," Anthony assured her, but Marina wasn't so sure. She'd talked directly to the headmaster, and he confirmed the school was running low on funds. That could be why Anthony's field trip request was going unanswered thus far, and the committees that usually met to plan out summer activities hadn't been assigned. If money was that tight, Marina worried if the school would close any time soon.

Anthony, who was sighted, noticed Marina's anguish. He took her hand, "Don't worry. The school will be just fine. I promise you."

Marina smiled, "I hope you're right. I've got to go. I'll see you in the morning."

"Can do," Anthony nodded, helping Marina get her bag before watching her leave. He shook his head as he watched her hips shift back and forth with each step. He liked what he saw. He just didn't know how to say it.

A/N: So this is a story about powerful women in Elwood City getting through their issues, and I'm going to cover as many as I can in this piece. Also, I wanted to write something to be my "He-ey, I'm back!" piece on to show I'm somehow surviving this crazy thing known as life, so here it is. Each chapter will feature another installment in the lives of those mentioned above. This piece is going to stay T but expect dark stuff, adult references, etc.—y'all saw the warning. So yeah, I'm back ha-ha:D I'll start updating my old stuff and posting new stuff that you may've only seen at my secret hiding place, so expect more activity from me in the coming weeks.

And just to reiterate something, I'm not done with you Travis. We're all still sick of your disgusting pieces, and rating them M so they're not cluttering the front page changes nothing. We all still want you off of here completely if that's all you know how to write. So I'm not done with you. My fans just deserve better (though my hiding place is doing well so :P Can't keep me down).


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Jane's medication wasn't working. Over-the-counter medication wasn't made to help you overcome the amount of pain she was in, but Jane knew she couldn't get any more pills. She'd have to manage without them, and since chores needed to be done, she'd just have to power through.

Jane moved into the kitchen and tackled the dishes first, then she carried a laundry basket into the den to begin folding. This was where David found her as he entered the home for lunch and to change into a dressier uniform. He put his car keys next to the door and looked up to see his wife sitting on the couch with a pained look on her face.

"You don't have to do that," David said, thinking her pained look was from doing chores post-surgery. David continued, "I can call Mom and have her stop by."

"No, I'll be fine," Jane said with an underlying fierceness that shot through David like a lightning bolt. Jane finished folding one of Kate's shirts and looked up, "And if you think I didn't notice what you did, you're dead wrong."

"I'm sorry. My hand just—"

"You know good and well you don't take those pills for pain anymore, David!" Jane hissed. She looked up with a gaze that could stop the universe, "I know exactly why you take them, and I'm sick of it! You need help. Kate has surgery in a few weeks, and if you do to her what you've done to me, I will never forgive you! She's never been in real pain before, but you let her go without what she'll legitimately need. Take her pills. Steal her comfort. Do it, David. I dare you, because you will _not_ like the woman I become when you do."

"I would never do that to her," David pleaded, but Jane ignored him. She picked up the next shirt, another one of Kate's, and folded it without looking up. David continued to grovel but Jane wasn't listening. She wanted him away from them before that surgery, but she couldn't say that yet. They needed one more major fuck-up to send her over the edge, but Jane wasn't there yet. She was mad and fed up, but she wasn't to volcano stage yet, and she hoped she wouldn't have to, especially in front of her kids.

Francine looked up from her menu as Catherine showed up, finally. Now that the two were adults not living together, they got along fine. When Catherine invited her sister out for dinner, Francine eagerly went along. Now that the day had come, Catherine was surprised to see her sister beat her to the restaurant.

"Wow, you must've had a rough week," Catherine said, sitting down and picking up a menu, "So, what's up at work? Is the new job still as dreamy as you hoped?"

"Yes and no," Francine admitted. Catherine looked up with a raised eyebrow. Francine nodded, "Yeah, I was surprised too, but things aren't turning out the way I expected."

"How so?" Catherine questioned, expecting to hear her sister talk about how the work itself was more overwhelming than she expected. Francine's response was not what she expected:

"I love the work so much. It's everything I've ever wanted. But my boss is always touching me or asking me to pick up things so he can watch me. I'm paranoid about using the bathroom at work. It's unisex so anyone can go in there. What if he has a camera set up somewhere? I've gone out for an early lunch so many times just to pee in a public restroom. I trust strangers more than I trust my skeezy boss!"

"Whoa, wow, Frankie, I never—Wow," Catherine stammered, shaking her head firmly. "That sounds terrible, but have you told HR? Maybe they can do something about it."

"I'm scared to. I just started out there, and he does it to other women too. If they haven't done anything about it, there must be a reason," Francine said, her voice cracking with exasperation.

"Well, my psychology degree taught me plenty about things like this, and I've seen this situation before. It's like the Bystander Effect but slightly different. Instead of everyone witnessing a murder, assault, rape, what have you, they're all being sexually harassed and hoping someone else will speak up for them. You're in the same position. You're hoping someone else will speak up so you won't have to."

Francine nodded, "Of course I am. I don't want to risk my career so early on over something this stupid."

"It's not stupid if you really feel that uncomfortable," Catherine said. The young women stopped their conversation to place their orders with the waiter, then Catherine continued, "If you feel that badly about what's going on, you won't be able to do your work properly. That will be more detrimental to your career than anything else."

Francine sipped her drink and nodded softly, "I never really thought of it like that, but I'm worried. What if I do go to HR and nothing happens? What if I speak up and I'm the one that gets taken down instead? I need this job."

"I know you need this job, but think about the situation. If enough of you do come forward, they won't be able to stop any of you. I think you need to invite coworkers individually to lunch or dinner and approach them on the issue. Besides, they might be able to tell you if they have gone to HR before or not, and if they did go, what results did they get? You won't know until you approach them," Catherine smiled.

Francine agreed with her sister, "You're right, but I never thought I'd be in a situation like this."

"No one ever thinks they'll be in a position like this until it happens, then they have to decide. You either put up with it or you put your foot down. Both take different skills, and let me tell you, Frankie, I know you too well to watch you put up with this and not do anything. You're too strong to just say 'meh, whatever,' to his behavior, and you know it," Catherine said with a persuasive enthusiasm that convinced Francine she'd done the right thing by talking to her. She left the dinner with a plan of action, one that she hoped would work.

Fern didn't expect the book to be finished this soon. Somehow the ending came to her, and she stayed up all night writing out the necessary pages. Now, far sooner than expected, the project she'd battled with for months was finally done. She looked it over just to make sure she hadn't skipped a part or left something out. Her outline and the pages matched—her novel was finally done.

Fern made herself breakfast and thought about what this meant. Once she put it in manuscript format, she could start sending it off as soon as possible. After work that afternoon, she could get to work sending it out, though part of her wanted to wait. She'd just finished it overnight in a whirlwind of words she never thought she'd write. How could she send it off for judgement so soon in its young life?

As she finished eating, she knew she had to push forward. If she ever wanted success, she had to risk grave failure. She'd known that for years, and now she just needed to put that lesson to practice…after work.

After downing a mug of coffee, Fern went upstairs and changed into her uniform. She then came back downstairs after hearing her name. She entered the kitchen and found her mother looking over a stack of mail. She passed three letters to Fern. One was a credit card offer, but the other two were from publishers, people Fern had forgotten about.

"Well? What's the verdict?" Doria asked with a light smile, walking with her daughter to the table in the breakfast nook. Fern used a butter knife handle to break the seal, then she pulled out the pages within each letter.

Doria was surprised when Fern passed her the rejection notices. How could people be so cold? How could people say such things to her daughter? Fern was unfazed. She was used to this now, and a couple more rejection letters meant nothing. She'd just put them upstairs with the rest. She'd been tempted to write "THE I TOLD YOU SO BOX" on the side because that's what it was to her, but her mother didn't understand.

"Is this the way they all are?" Doria asked. Fern nodded as she put the letters back together. Doria scoffed, "Well that's just ridiculous. I can't believe they treat you this way. I want to do something, Fern. What are our options?"

"I have a new project I'm going to start sending out soon. You can help me pay for the prints," Fern suggested.

Doria shook her head, "No, I don't think you should play this game. I meant something else."

"Mom, that's how it works. I don't want to self-publish, so I have to do this. I'm fine, really. If you want to be a writer, you have to expect rejection. Not everyone is going to like everything you do," Fern said firmly. Doria still didn't understand, but Fern didn't have time to argue. She took her letters upstairs and grabbed her things. She was out the door before her mother could say anything else, but the encounter did sit with her. What if she did have to self-publish? Could she really be successful?

Fern didn't know, but she knew she needed money. She made her way to the Greasy Burger and started her shift.

Sue Ellen was getting coffee in the school's cafeteria when she felt someone watching her. She turned to see Pierre, a classmate of hers that she often studied with. He waved her over to his table so she sat with him, stirring her coffee as she looked Pierre over. He was the picture of happiness, and Sue Ellen envied him. She barely remembered what happiness felt like. Life for her was a fake smile while clutching her books for dear life.

"I've wanted to ask you a question for a while now," Pierre said, pulling out a newspaper and passing it towards her, "Is your family okay with hearing this on the news knowing that you're here?"

"I'm beginning to think they don't get any news over there," Sue Ellen scoffed. Pierre seemed surprised, so Sue Ellen explained, "They want me to live this dream for them, but they seem to forget that this is my life. I've hoped for a while that they would call and demand I get out of her as quick and as safely as possible, but so far I've had no such luck."

"So you're living your parents' dream?" Pierre questioned.

Sue Ellen corrected him, "No, my mother's dream. My father wanted me to do whatever I wished, and I wanted to continue my schooling where I got my first degree from. Then Mom got all gushy, so I told her I'd come here. I'm beginning to think I've made the biggest mistake of my entire life, no offense to you or anyone else I've met here."

"No, no, I understand. This isn't your life, and I think you should take it back. You should do whatever you can to convince them to let you come home. If you don't want to be here, you shouldn't be here. Their actions have hurt your senses. You now can no longer see the beauties of France."

"You're right," Sue Ellen nodded, "I can't see how beautiful France is when I feel like I live in a virtual reality the size of a shoebox. I've…I've thought of telling them for a while, but maybe now is the time."

Pierre smiled, "It is. I saw your score over your shoulder the other week. You should leave now while your, how does it go? While your head is above water," Pierre grinned. Sue Ellen nodded. She just couldn't help but agree.

Jenna swooned as she sat up. She'd been inside the bathroom for a while now without food, and the water she was getting wasn't helping. She and her baby needed more than this, but she doubted Frank would listen. He hadn't cared about her needs before, so why should he now?

As she came to her senses, she realized she could hear Frank's truck. She listened for several minutes, then the sound changed, growing louder as he backed out of the driveway. Then he left, leaving the neighborhood behind.

Jenna knew this was her chance. She started picking at the window, and to her surprise, it practically fell out of place. The opening was barely wide enough for her and her pregnant belly, and Jenna was worried she'd be too lightheaded to go through safely. But soon her feet were on the ground and she was on her way up the street.

The woman she encountered was immediately concerned. She helped Jenna into her kitchen and quickly scraped together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Jenna thanked her, and after eating half, she begged the woman to help her get to the bus station and to Elwood City.

The woman eyed Jenna carefully, "Were you being held against your will?"

"Lately yes. He's horrible, terrible. I'm afraid for my life and my baby's life. We can't live like this. I know that now, and I just wish I'd gotten away sooner."

"Well, we can't change the past," the woman said as she snatched up her keys. She then handed them to Jenna, "I hope you can drive. I can't see more than a few feet past my head without my glasses."

"How will you get back home?" Jenna asked with great concern.

The woman smiled, "Don't worry about me. Take the car to the bus station. There should be fifty dollars in the glove compartment. Just leave it there and I'll have my daughter and her husband go get it later together. You get back home to people who love you, and hurry. Just take that sandwich with you."

Jenna did exactly as she was told. She knew now that she had to get away from Frank, so she went on her journey. She found the money and used it to get one-way ticket home. The bus arrived and Jenna boarded it without opposition. She made it back to the city, and after a few unsuccessful tries, she was finally able to borrow a cellphone to call her family. Her mother was elated to hear from her and eagerly came to her rescue. Jenna smiled. She hoped that she would finally be free.

Muffy wandered the streets for a while before her stomach forced her into a local café. As she nibbled at the cheapest menu item, a child-sized sandwich with barely enough toppings to cover the bread the sandwich was made on, she wondered what was going to happen to her. She sipped at her ice water and thought of the few contacts she had in the area. Almost everyone she knew worked at the company, and the only one that had ever tried to help her was currently having raucous sex in the bed Muffy was once able to sleep in.

The thought of her life situation caused Muffy to push her food away. She shook her head firmly as she tried to force back tears. A few slipped, and Muffy cursed herself. A woman from another table noticed somehow and was instantly at her side, demanding to know what was wrong so she could help her. Muffy was evasive, but the woman was persuasive.

Then the woman stopped suddenly. A soft smile formed on her lips, "You don't know who I am, do you?" she asked. Muffy slowly shook her head. The woman laughed, "It's me, Maria. We went to school together back in Elwood City."

"I thought you'd moved out to California," Muffy said with surprise.

Maria laughed, "Oh that old rumor. Well at least you hadn't heard the other one. People don't take too kindly to that."

"That you're an escort?" Muffy questioned, causing Maria's smile to fade. Muffy sighed, "Look, I don't judge you. It's money, and at least you have a freer life than I do."

"Especially now that escort services are legal here in Metropolis," Maria winked. "Look, I have an apartment that you can stay at if you need to. I don't know what's wrong because you won't tell me, but I'd like to help you. You just have to understand my way of life is frowned upon by our former neighbors and classmates. In fact, I was surprised you didn't really react."

"I've just had a rough day. I'll tell you about it sometime, but not right now. But I could use a place to go right now, so I think I will take you up on the offer. Maybe we can work something out. I don't really make enough for my own place," Muffy whispered.

Maria's face reacted to that information, but she said nothing. The women finished their meals before taking a taxi to Maria's apartment. It was in the same building that Muffy was already staying in, but Maria's room seemed nicer by comparison. Muffy smiled. Her surprise encounter had paid off, and somehow the behavior Elwood City frowned upon afforded Maria more luxury than Muffy had ever expected.

Ladonna needed groceries. She had no choice but to take the file-mile journey into town to get the bare necessities, and the only way she could do it without fear was to go well after midnight when she knew her mother would be asleep.

Bread, eggs, milk—Ladonna tossed them all in, adding a jar of grape jelly, two boxes of tea bags, and a large 20-pound bag of sugar. She wanted some soda for herself and some chocolate chip cookies so she added those too. Then she went to the one cashier, who eyed her suspiciously as she rang up the items.

"Will this be all?" she asked in a flat voice.

Ladonna nodded and forked over sixty dollars for the items. She received her change and helped the woman finish her bagging. As Ladonna put the last bag into the cart, the cashier cleared her throat. Ladonna looked up and the cashier cracked a smile. Ladonna was instantly perplexed. What did she want?

"I know who you are. You're one of those Compson kids. Why are you coming in here so late? I know no one is sick or you would've gotten some medicine too," she said with a hint of concern.

Ladonna was defensive, "We're fine. I just love getting out at night."

In a huff, Ladonna made it out to the parking lot. She rushed home and got the groceries inside as carefully as she could. When she was done, she practically tore off her jeans and tucked herself into bed.

Then she heard it, the moans and cries that came from her mother's night terrors. Ladonna sighed heavily. She was tired, exhausted—very eager for sleep to come. She had to see if her mother would break out of the terror on her own, but as the cries grew louder, Ladonna knew she had to go in there.

Sure enough, her mother had slipped to the floor, her right leg being caught up in the sheets. She flailed and begged for the monster to let her go, so Ladonna freed her mother and held her close. Soon the shaking and screaming stopped, and as if it never happened, she woke up and studied Ladonna closely.

"Ladonna, go back to bed. I'm fine," she whispered. She picked herself up and put herself into bed as if she wasn't sick, as if she was entirely with the world. Ladonna was stunned, but she was too tired to argue with her. She went back to bed and decided to put on pajamas in case it happened again. Then she sank into bed with a heavy sigh, her mind reluctant to wonder what tomorrow would bring.

Bitzi looked up from her desk as the layouts were delivered in the workroom. Bitzi went outside, her eyes landing on the hot delivery guy. She couldn't help but look in his direction when his strong biceps rippled as he lifted heavy objects. She wanted a man like that. She needed a man like that. But she had work to do.

Bitzi looked over the layouts and noticed a few punctuation errors and some names that didn't look right. She sent them away, causing the delivery boy to lift the plates. Bitzi turned away and went to her office. She had no choice if she wanted to keep herself focused while at work.

As she sank into her office chair, Bitzi let out a sigh. Her phone buzzed and she looked down to the notification. One of her dating apps had found a local match who messaged her to ask about a dinner date. Bitzi quickly eyed his profile and decided he was nothing worse than the others. She accepted the date and got the reservation. He wanted to eat at an Italian bistro downtown, and Bitzi was fine with that idea.

After work, she got dressed up and went down to the restaurant a few minutes early. To her surprise, the guy was already there. His name was Kevin and he shook her hand cordially as they went to the hostess station. They were led to a table next to the kitchen, and the two cracked jokes as they looked over the menu.

But after eating their salads, Bitzi felt the shift. His attitude changed as the salads were replaced with a shared ravioli dish. Suddenly he couldn't continue the date and stood to leave.

"Could you explain this to me?" Bitzi begged.

"I'm sorry, no. I just have to go," he said quickly, placing a hundred dollar bill on the table before darting away.

Bitzi groaned, "Well at least he's going to cover the check. Another dinner alone," she whispered, taking a huge bite of pasta. As she chewed, she felt eyes on her. Bitzi turned to see a guy who looked just like Kevin eying her closely. She turned fully and he stepped forward, "What are you doing?"

"Just trying to gauge the situation. I have some explaining to do," he grinned. He sighed as he stifled a giggle, "I'm really Kevin. You just met my twin, Ken, who thinks it's fun to use my dating profile to meet women. He's not the same as me. He's not successful, he doesn't keep a job very long, and he's not very brave. But I guess he did something right because you don't seem as angry as the others."

"I finally have something different to blog about," Bitzi laughed, "Wow, twins playing games with me through a dating app. Well at least Ken/Kevin/Whoever decided to cover the check."

"Yeah, that's my money, but I don't mind. I would like to join you if you're up for it," Kevin smiled. Bitzi shrugged, and Kevin instantly had a fork in his hand and a bite of ravioli in his mouth. Kevin shook his head, "I'm glad you're handling this better than the others. I've had some interesting situations."

"I'm sure. How many of them knew you were lying?" Bitzi asked, causing Kevin to cough and reach for his water.

"Lying? Why would I lie about something like that?"

"So you could impress someone, I guess. I'm not you so I don't know how this works, but you're Kevin. If there is a Ken, he's not here. I watched you," Bitzi said flatly, grabbing a bite of ravioli and putting it into her mouth. She used her fork to point to a silver, globe-like decoration high on the wall.

Kevin muttered a curse under his breath before smiling, "Well, you got me. Please don't tell anyone."

"I don't intend to tell anyone but my followers, not that I use names. I'll give you credit, you gave me something different tonight, but there will not be a second date with you or whatever else you've got lurking in your family tree," Bitzi said, laughing to herself, "At least you've done better than the others, but you could be hiding something else. Anyone willing to lie about a twin is probably willing to shine a cellphone camera up my skirt."

The change in Kevin's face told Bitzi she'd accidentally come across his other secret. Before she could snatch his phone away or anything else, Kevin darted out of the restaurant for good this time. Bitzi wasn't going to let him get away. She called Detective Clark Simmons, a good friend of hers at the Elwood City Police Department. He met her outside the restaurant and took her statement at the coffee shop next door. He promised to catch the perp, but there wasn't much he could do without a real last name.

Bitzi decided just to head home and relay the story to her blog. It was written anonymously with fake names all around, even this entry where Kevin became a criminal by the end of the date. She posted it around ten-thirty, and by eleven, she was already getting comments. Bitzi would read them later. She poured herself a glass of wine and ran herself a bubble bath. She sank into the water, letting the heat from the water massage away the filth of her day.

Belinda woke up as the front door closed. She checked her clock and saw it was nine-thirty. She put on her robe and walked into the living room, where she found her husband in the kitchen with some groceries.

"I thought you were at work," Belinda said. Charles smiled as he turned around. He handed her an unsigned card for their anniversary. Belinda blushed, "I'm so sorry I forgot. It's been such a tiring week."

"I know it has, and I've been thinking about it. I talked to some friends, and they think you need to find another job. Even if you have to commute, there has to be something else you can get. I know you're loyal to the hospital, but they treat you like a dog," Charles said firmly.

"I know they do," Belinda nodded, "and I think I've reached that point. If you want to help me find listings in your spare time, I'll look into them. I'm just fed up with being treated like this. They took away my Sunday off this time, and I doubt I'll get to go next week either. I'm so done. I mean, why am I forgetting our anniversary? I should be the one reminding you."

"Well, Mei-Lin remembered and wanted to do something special, as did Binky. I told them your work situation, and they both said they understood, but I know better. Go on back to bed and I'll leave you some leftovers. I have to get back to the office right now, but I thought I'd take care of you now so you could actually enjoy it. But I want it to be a surprise."

Belinda smiled and went back to bed. She managed to go back to sleep despite the sounds from the kitchen, and when she was up again, it was because her alarm woke her. Belinda ate the dish her husband prepared and left him a romantic note. Then she showered and put on her scrubs. Within an hour of waking up, she was clocking in at the hospital, a blank expression on her face. As she predicted, the schedule for the following week was released. Her day off had been replaced by a swing shift—she could either show up for the morning shift or the evening shift.

Belinda shook her head. She had to find something else now because she couldn't afford to walk off the job, not until she had another job to run to.

Anita was getting breakfast in town when she ran into a frazzled Mrs. Morgan. The two exchanged glances at the counter as they got their meals together, but neither said a word to each other as they went their separate ways. Anita just couldn't handle anyone right now, and she moved to a far corner of the shop to eat by herself.

As she flipped through her phone, she realized she had a meeting later that morning with one of her friends and investors. She sighed and finished her food quickly so she could make the meeting on time. When she was done, she rushed over, somehow hitting each redlight with precision for less stops.

Once inside, Anita found her friend's office and stepped inside. Doria stood and hugged her before returning to her seat. Anita sat across from her with a sigh.

"Oh, you had a long evening, didn't you? Are things still rough at home?" Doria questioned. Anita merely looked up and Doria nodded, "That's what I thought. Tell me everything."

"James is just not what I expected, and Alan is still confounding both of us. I need to get my franchise started and he's doing his own thing out in Chicago. I'm worried about him, but being home with his father and taking care of my business keeps me distracted. I just don't know what to do, especially about his drinking," Anita said in a low whisper.

"Gosh, he's still doing that? Well, I guess it's a good thing I found this online. So, one of my friends has a husband like that. If there's a problem, minor or major, truth or fiction, he's got booze on him. She got so fed up that she finally looked into rehab centers. If you can prove they're a danger to themselves or others, some rehab centers can forcibly take them in," Doria smirked. "Doesn't James have that DUI on his record from last year?"

"Yes, and he keeps driving too," Anita sighed, "but I don't know if I want to ship him off. Do you think it's the right thing to do?"

"I think you'd do better with a husband in rehab instead of a husband in jail for a vehicular homicide charge from a DUI wreck," Doria said firmly.

Anita nodded. Doria Walters wouldn't lie to her about that, as she had always looked out for her before. Anita accepted some paperwork about the person and tucked it into her purse.

"Well, I didn't just call you in here to talk to you about your husband. Your business is worthy, and I want to continue my investments with the same cut. You've done well enough to keep making me some spending money, and I'm going to need it. I've got to help Fern get published."

Anita nodded, "I'll get the contract written up and you can sign it whenever I make it that far."

The women agreed, then their busy schedules pulled them away. Anita made her way to the ice cream shop and started preparing the place for the day with her staff. The work kept her mind busy, but she was still concerned with her future, as well as her husband's.

Molly looked up from her form as James walked into the kitchen. He was groggy from staying up too late, but he was eager to get his day started. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and pulled the milk from the refrigerator. He tested it first, taking a whiff of it. He immediately poured it down the sink.

"I was wondering about that. Do you remember when I got groceries last?" Molly asked. James shrugged as he sat across from her, reaching into his bowl and eating the dry cereal by hand. Molly sighed, "Let's see if I can at least afford some milk today."

"And toilet paper and toothpaste. I'm out," James said as he chewed his cereal with his mouth open.

"Oh, I can get toothpaste for free at school, and maybe some toilet paper if you don't mind having one of those giant rolls in the bathroom. That's how I got paper towels that one time," Molly smirked. James shrugged. He didn't care either way as long as they had it. "Well, that's where I'll be heading after I turn in this form. I graduate soon, which means I don't have to be the receptionist anymore."

"You'll finally be able to clean the teeth?" James asked.

"Yep," Molly nodded, "I'll finally move my way up. Dr. Mallory is really happy about it too. She hopes I'll go on for my dental degree, but that will have to wait. So, what about you?"

"Just lectures today, but I have an essay due online Sunday night," James sighed. "I'll get it all done. So, are we going to visit Mom's grave anytime soon? I dreamed about her last night, and I think I want to go visit her."

Molly thought about it for a moment. It had been a long time since they went to visit, but they were both so busy with school. Now that she was about to graduate, she would have more time on her hands, but Molly was thinking of using it to get a second job instead. She would have to think about it, but she wanted more of an income so she wouldn't have to worry about money. She thought of asking James to get a job, but she didn't want to stress him out.

"Molly?" James asked.

"Yeah, sorry," Molly laughed, "I'll think about it, okay? I've got a lot to do today, and I probably won't get home until late. I need to take an extra hour or so for a little more cash at work if we want food. Don't worry about anything though. Let me do that."

"What if I want to worry about that? Look, one of my friends has a job at a skate shop. I was thinking of asking if there were any openings so I could work there and make extra money, that way we can order out more and get better cable," James smiled. He seemed so happy, but Molly had to protest. When James pushed her again, she conceded. She wanted her brother's help whether she would openly admit it or not.

Once they were done with breakfast, the two left home and went about their day, but their morning stuck with Molly. Maybe they weren't getting on as good as she thought. Maybe she needed a little more than extra money.

Prunella's work always started early. She was the lifeblood of a local advertising firm, and it was up to her to run the office. She manned the phones, she responded to emails, she did inventory, she picked up deliveries and sent out packages—everything the company needed to get their jobs done easier. It was also up to her to keep clients happy, and as she entered the office five-til-five, she knew it was going to be one of those difficult days. Her first email's subject was URGENT and it was from a very picky person from before.

As she expected, things had gone wrong in their eyes and it was up to Prunella to play detective and sort things out. She went back through archived emails and found their request, as well as the items they created to fulfill said request. She sent the items back to the client in a polite way, but it really begged to ask, "Your move."

After handling that first crisis, one of the artists came in early to begin their day. Prunella helped them with the office's main printer before sitting back down at her desk. As she settled into her chair and looked back to her email, her phone buzzed. It wasn't a number she recognized, but she decided to answer it anyway because of Rubella's situation. Sure enough, it was Dr. Mano:

"Hello, Prunella, I'm sorry to bother you at such an hour, but I have some questions about your sister's health. I need to know if she's done certain things before so we can decide if they're warning signs or not," he explained. Prunella asked him to continue, and he did, "Your sister seems to have delusions about things that we assume have not happened. Was she really stood up at the altar?"

Prunella stifled a heavy laugh before shaking her head, "No, Doctor. She's never had a boyfriend beyond six months, and that one was because the guy wanted some bet money."

"Alright, and did she ever release a pet fish into the ocean to free its soul?" Dr. Mano questioned.

"I'm afraid not, Doctor. Rubella's only pet was a cat, Shish-Bob, and that was before my time. I think he was hit by a car, but I'm afraid I have no one to ask to reference that information," Prunella responded.

"And one more thing. She said you knew her medical history and could attest to several illnesses not listed in her files that require medications. Is that true?"

"I know everything she's pretended to have because she wouldn't let me get away from it. Listen, Doctor, I've been taking my sister to and from appointments for a long time because I wanted to keep an eye on her. I've been waiting for this day to come, the day when a real mental health professional takes a look at you. Your calling with these questions only proves my point. There has to be something wrong with her, even if she's a delusional liar. There is some part of her that is ill."

Dr. Mano sighed, "I hate to prove you correct, but we're still early in the evaluation. I just needed to double check those things to make sure. Have you ever said anything to her doctors before?"

Prunella allowed herself to laugh, "No because they already knew she was full of it. Rubella has proven herself to certain doctors to be a hypochondriac. What I want you to discover is what else she has along with that, or the mental defect that's causing it all. If she's just neurotic, so be it, but I know in my heart that something is probably wrong with her. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work," Prunella said, ending the call before Dr. Mano could protest. Several more workers had arrived, and it was her job to make sure they were on task for the day.

And as she wanted, Prunella had the office running smoothly well before sunup. Because of her sister's psych evaluation, she knew there wouldn't be any surprise calls asking her to be anywhere or long, drawn-out emails asking about symptoms in relation to some disease. With Rubella locked away, Prunella was free, and she felt better than she had in a very long time.

Marina was walking past the board room near the headmaster's office when she realized the board of trustees was meeting. Marina stalled at a bench nearby, stopping to fix her shoe and tidy her books. It was really an act so she could eavesdrop without being caught.

"I'm afraid the accounts are dry. Some of our biggest benefactors have decided not to donate this fiscal year because they too are facing losses, and I'm worried about how the school will continue next year unless we start charging tuition."

"We cannot charge tuition to these students. This is the only place they have, but I have another solution, be it an unpopular one."

The group murmured as Marina picked up a book a pretended to flip through it nearby. She was on the edge of her seat to hear what solution the member wanted to propose.

"I think we need to go public and begin accepting money from state agencies. This was unpopular in the past because the leadership that was brought in didn't understand the needs of our students, but times have changed dramatically since then."

"I don't know if our parents will go for that. They took their kids out of public school for a reason. We're a non-profit that doesn't charge tuition. I see no reason why anything should change. We can apply for more grants and hold fundraisers for more benefactors."

The group continued to argue the situation, but it was clear that this group was not up for any changes, even if it meant saving the school. Going public to accept state money was out of the picture, and Marina grew worried. She knew things were growing desperate, and she decided to return to her classroom to take her mind off the issue.

But she couldn't escape. After she'd been in her room a moment, she heard someone enter. Anthony identified himself and put a form on her desk. The school had rejected his field trip application.

"I'm so sorry," Marina apologized.

Anthony nodded as he sat on a desk, "I knew you would be. I'm worried about how next year is going to go, and well," he paused, chuckling softly, "you know who just had to call me today. My father wants me for his private school. All those prep school kids with their privilege. None of them have seen hardship a day in their life up there, yet he wants me to teach them for three times what I make here."

"That's tempting at this point despite the type of kids you'll be working with. I'm pretty worried myself," Marina admitted.

"What will you do if they close this school? Have you ever worked anywhere else?" Anthony asked.

Marina shook her head, "I've only volunteered, but I could only do so much because of how people saw me. Finding another job would be really difficult, but I might have to try it. I've overheard some things, and I just hope we can find a way out of this, otherwise…yeah, we're in trouble. Well, I am. You have a solution, and I guess the kids can try public school again. We're the ones out of jobs and out of luck."

"I could talk to my father if that happens. If he hears good things from me and likes your transcripts, he'll agree to meet you. As for actually hiring you with your disability, I don't know. I'll have to really convince him, but I think I can do it. You're a nice person and I'd love to help you. I'd love to help everyone, but he's a last resort. This really is Rich Kid Land," Anthony grinned.

Marina knew to let him work his magic if the day came, but she wasn't looking forward to that kind of school either. If she had to go to one, she would, but it wasn't her first choice, not that she had anything else to choose from.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Jane couldn't get out of bed. The pain from her dental surgery was too much for her to get up and get anything done. At first, the pain was manageable with some over-the-counter pills, but now it was too much. She'd been given prescription pain pills for a reason, and David's taking of those pills was starting to get to her.

As Jane lay in bed, she got a text from Thora. She was in the neighborhood visiting Sarah MacGrady and wanted to stop by. Jane told her to come in through the garage so she wouldn't have to unlock the front door, and Thora obliged. She arrived with a small bucket with soup in it, which she left downstairs in the kitchen for Jane to get later. When she entered the master bedroom and saw how miserable her daughter-in-law was, she knew her visit was very much needed.

"I assume I know why you're in here instead of doing your usual work," Thora said darkly, her arms crossing instinctively as Jane confirmed her fears with a nod. Thora exhaled heavily, "I don't know what I'm going to do about him. Have the kids figured it out yet?"

"No, but Kate's surgery is coming up. I'm worried he'll take her pills too, and she just can't endure that type of pain without help," Jane cried, wiping her head with a cool, damp cloth to get the sweat away. Her pain was so much that it was causing the sweating despite the cool air conditioner flowing through the house.

Thora sighed as she sat on the foot of the bed, "I was wondering about that, and I think we need to do something before then. I'm going to ask him to seek help. I'll pay for everything if he'll just go into this program and see if it can help him. I have a friend's granddaughter who's getting married in Havana, so we can tell the kids he's going there for work and a short vacation. That should do the trick."

Jane shook her head, "I don't know if that would work for multiple reasons. How are you going to persuade him to go into a program?"

Thora smirked, "He stole from me too, Jane. I have the written prescriptions still and I can prove to the police that he stole them from me because he's the only one with a key. I know you and others know where the spare key is, but Arthur has his own life and the girls don't think like that. And why would you steal the pills? Until now you had no need for them. So, I think that would be sufficient. Besides, I have contacts with the police department. I just have to say the right words and they'll do anything they can for me."

"So we'll tell him it's rehab or jail?" Jane asked meekly. Thora nodded with confidence and Jane sighed. How was she supposed to be that confident with her husband, especially right now when she was in a world of hurt?

"I know it's a hard decision, but it must be done. And I brought you something. I can take the extra strength arthritis stuff for a few days so you can have these. Will five be enough?" Thora asked, pulling a pill bottle out of her purse.

Jane nodded and accepted the pills, which were in a small pouch on a leather string. Jane put it around her neck after pulling out a pill. Thora went into the bathroom and got her a cool glass of water. Jane thanked her before using it to take her pill. She swallowed it and exhaled slowly, hoping the pill would take effect soon.

Thora smiled, "I'll stay for a little while. I need to wash a jacket of mine in the car and my washer's low setting just doesn't do the trick anymore. You rest and I'll take care of some things."

Normally Jane would argue with her, but not today. She lay back and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and regularly as she tried to wish the pain away. Thirty minutes later, the pill finally took effect, and with Thora's chores done, she left Jane alone with her soup and a major decision on her hands. Jane wanted to let Thora handle the business, but part of her wanted to do it herself. She needed her husband back as he was again, and fast. She couldn't let her daughter suffer because of his addiction.

Francine took her sister's advice and asked Samantha out for lunch the next day. Samantha had been with the company for five years, and if you really studied the company's photography from then until now, you could see that her personality had changed dramatically. She started a young, enthusiastic worker, but now she was a cynical mess you didn't want to cross. Francine knew she'd be the perfect one to talk to, if she could get the conversation steered in the right direction.

"So, where did you want lunch from?" Francine asked. Samantha shrugged after getting her seatbelt on. Francine was driving, so Samantha was on her smartphone typing up a storm. Francine decided on a little café a few blocks down, "How about soup and sandwiches?"

"I can't have gluten," Samantha said without looking up from her phone. Francine was floored. She'd heard of that before but she had no idea who catered to such a restriction. She decided on an all-American café with a little bit of everything without telling Samantha. When they arrived, she got out without comment, so Francine assumed this would be fine.

After getting their table and ordering, Samantha finally put down her phone. She sipped the Diet Coke she'd ordered and looked Francine over as she fixed her iced tea the way she wanted it. Finally Samantha sat back and smiled, "So, what do you need to ask me about?"

"Am I that obvious?" Francine asked. Samantha nodded firmly. Francine shifted, "Well, I need to talk about Thornton."

"Off limits," Samantha spat, sitting up straighter, "You don't want to go there. If you don't like it, you need to find a new job like everyone else."

"I know you don't like it either. Who does?" Francine asked.

Samantha thought for a moment before nodding, "You're right about that, but I've looked at all comparable positions in and around Elwood City and Metropolis. He pays well for people our age, and if you can just put up with him, you'll get everything you want. I just closed on a house last month, and I got a new car within weeks of starting here. Enjoy the money, get what you want, then look for something else."

"It doesn't have to work that way if we all get together. We can be treated as we should be and make the right money."

Samantha laughed, "You are so young and naïve, Frensky. Thornton is the leader, the guy calling all the shots, but it's not his company. If the boss gets this case and enough people are for it and all that jazz, if hype is enough to make him act, he'll fire Thornton and get the next guy in line to fill in for him. That is his brother, a miserly old fart who doesn't know how the business works, but he knows how to save money and that's by cutting employee wages. And don't say 'Oh, we'll just sue' because that's not how it works. You just need to deal with it."

Francine shook her head, "I don't want to just deal with it. I can't work with some guy's hand up my ass."

"Then leave," Samantha shrugged, "It's as simple as that. Don't like, don't stay. I can't tell you anything else other than to keep this away from the others girls. It's not that they can't help you, it's that they won't, and they're right not to. We need our jobs, Francine. If you want things to change, you need to be that change."

Their food arrived and their conversation was silenced. Samantha picked up her smartphone as she chomped into a salad with grilled chicken strips. Francine bit into her mini burger sliders with a light smile on her face. She would follow Samantha's advice to "be that change," but it wouldn't be the way Samantha wanted. No, Francine was going to keep fighting. She just needed to find the right people to fight with.

Fern was surprised at her mother's support. Instead of helping her with the new project, she wanted to look into the old one. So within an hour of getting home, instead of sitting around the table eating dinner, they were sitting around the table picking through pages and rejection letters. Doria also had a manuscript with her, and from what she'd looked at so far, she knew Fern had an audience. She just needed to find it for herself.

"I've looked on my social media sites and decided I have over fifteen thousand followers. Some of them are bound to buy your book, but this summary is lacking and we need good cover art. Once we have that, we can market it to our followers and see who bites. Then we can just go from there," Doria smiled.

Fern shook her head, "I don't know what I want for my cover art. I'm just not artistic like that."

"Well, I was talking to some colleagues over lunch, and one of the lower agents who works with us periodically has a son who does graphic design. I think you went to school with him too. Alex?" Doria asked. Fern nodded; she recognized that game. Doria continued, "Well, he's offered to whip something up for free as long as we get him a copy of the manuscript beforehand so he can see what he's working with. He'll read it and go from there."

"I like that idea, but what if things take off? Do I pay him later?" Fern asked.

Doria smiled, "If you get successful, how you handle those kinds of situations are up for you. You have another job too, from what you've told me, and I think you can come up with that on your own. But for now, this is what we're doing."

"I'm okay with it. I'll take this over to Alex once we get in touch. Can I get his number or something?" Fern asked, but it was clear that this was her mother's mission. She wanted to do all the contacting and moving around, and Fern decided to let her. After getting some pizza delivered to the house, Fern went to her room and started on a new project. She wrote into the night, her mind only on her plot instead of her future. Fern would let her mother worry with it right now, namely because she'd become used to rejection. Now was no different, and she assumed that this time would be no different. This so-called publishing attempt would fail, so Fern would just keep writing like she'd always done before.

Sue Ellen looked up from her journal as her phone buzzed. Her mother was calling, so Sue Ellen continued the arduous task of convincing her mother she was totally and completely happy with her time in France. Her mother fell for it, believing every word and leaving the conversation happy like always.

In reality, Sue Ellen was journaling about her decision. Her conversation with Pierre had helped her figure out what she wanted to do, and a recent failed test had pushed her further. Sue Ellen was writing about her decision to contact her old university to see if they could still take her and help her finish up her degree. An email to her old dean was already drafted out, but now she needed to decide whether or not to send it.

Now that her phone call was over, Sue Ellen could focus on her decision. She wasn't going to be able to get her degree over here. The material wasn't the same, and her ability to pass the tests and stay afloat was fading. Her understanding of the language was fine, but her desire to continue living among this culture was waning fast. With so many terror attacks and rumors and overall fear, Sue Ellen wanted out of France and fast.

As she looked over the email, she decided she had to hit send. She needed out of here fast, but she needed a backup plan. She had to get in contact with her old university and find a way out through there.

She hit the button and sighed with relief, but she knew it wasn't over. She eyed her phone and realized it was time for another lecture. She rushed to the hall and took a seat in the back of the room. She attempted to focus on the teacher's thick and fast French, but this class wasn't for her today. She remained in her seat for the entire time, but she didn't want to be there. She didn't even want to be in this country anymore. She wanted to go home.

But Sue Ellen didn't know how to do that. She could get back to her old university probably without problems, but going home? She'd have to think of a way to go back without upsetting her parents. As Sue Ellen walked back to her tiny French apartment, she knew exactly what she had to do: Sue Ellen had to lead a secret life.

Jenna walked up to her parents' front door and rang the bell. When Mrs. Morgan saw her overly pregnant daughter with nothing with her, not even a purse or a bag, she knew something was wrong. She pulled her inside and sat her on the couch to hear everything.

"Something just clicked and I decided that I had to get out of there. Frank put me in the bathroom for mouthing off to him. I know I shouldn't have, but locking me in a bathroom? I just couldn't take it anymore," Jenna cried, wiping away her tears, "A neighbor helped me get away. I need to pay her back when I can, but I can't go back there, and I don't think I can stay here either. What if Frank finds me?"

"He won't," Jenna's mother cried, "I won't let him get you or that baby. Is it his?"

"Yes," Jenna nodded. Her mother smiled, "We don't have to tell anymore. As long as you didn't marry him, we can keep him out of this entirely. We can get you through this, but you need something to eat. Stay here and I'll go make something."

Jenna didn't argue with her. As she sat in her childhood living room, she thought about the moment she decided to leave. She didn't know why. Being locked in the bathroom was normal behavior, and it was nothing compared to when he actually did hit her or break her things. She didn't have food, but she had water, so her and her baby would be okay.

But she decided to leave, and now she was here. She looked over the living room and noticed her mother had changed out the picture frames since she was last there. As she looked over the photos, she realized her father wasn't in any of them.

Jenna moved to the master bedroom and found half of the bed—her father's half—covered in clothes and bags. Half of the closet—her father's half—was empty, and the bathroom was missing any evidence of a man's presence.

"I couldn't get in touch with you," Jenna's mother whispered, causing Jenna to jump at first. Then she turned around and saw her mother's smile, "We just realized we couldn't do this anymore. He took his things and went to his…his other family. He's married and can now raise his three kids with her. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I could not find you. I tried for months with no success."

"It's okay. Frank moved me away. I don't even know what the town is called, but there's a sign outside the neighborhood that says Cherry something. I don't know, but all of my personal information is still there. How are we going to get it back?" Jenna asked.

"I don't know, but we'll work out everything. You and the baby can stay here as long as you need to, and we'll get everything sorted. I've gone through worse than this, baby," she smiled, rubbing her daughter's shoulder. Jenna smiled back and followed her mother into the kitchen. Jenna sat patiently as her mother finished cooking, then the two ate some lunch together. It was delicious, and Jenna felt instant regret. Why hadn't she left Frank sooner?

Maria's apartment was just as nice as Muffy would expect from the building, but the shock for her was that Maria's job was unapparent. Law books filled the shelves in a small office, where Maria's workstation was laid out like a real law office. Muffy was surprised as she looked the place over. If there were an older man around, Muffy would assume she was the housewife of a prominent Metropolis lawyer.

But Maria was the lawyer. When she saw Muffy's expressions, she quickly told her that she was planning to become a lawyer. She would take the bar exam soon, and she hoped to start practicing within the next few years.

"Wow, that's an expensive degree," Muffy gasped.

Maria grinned, "Well, I'm not in debt, obviously. I'll stop once I get a good enough job, if I can. The job had a lot more promise when I first started, but I wanted to be a lawyer. That was my wish so I went for it, and if I can't have it, I'll keep doing what I'm doing. That's just how this world works now, Muffy. If you can't get what you want, you just have to do what you can to get it. Our parents look down on us, but hey, we're paying our bills."

Muffy turned to her, "So your parents don't approve?"

"Nope," Maria smiled, laughing softly, "They found out when they were in town without telling me. I accompanied an older man to a play and they found me at the theatre. When they saw us together leaving in a limo, they blew up my phone trying to get information, but I was finishing my night with a loyal client and ignored them. When they kept bothering me the next day, I came clean with them, and I haven't heard from them since. My cousin knows everything and is supportive though. Ashley has always been my best friend, and she gets it, and she tried to help. She shared photos of this place with them, but they said things that were beyond cruel and asked Ashley not to contact them again either."

"I don't think I've ever heard of Ashley," Muffy said, following Maria to a sitting room and accepting a glass of sparkling water from her.

Maria shrugged, "Some people know of her, others don't. Ashley was born with a rare disorder that keeps her inside a lot, and she didn't go to regular school. Basically she's allergic to sunlight, specifically the UV rays or something. I don't really understand it, but she and I grew up together. I'd go to her house on weekends so my parents could do whatever they did, and we got really close. We keep in constant contact with each other, and I didn't think twice before telling her about my job. She's been fully supportive, and she wants the best for me."

"I never thought this would be such a lucrative business though. This place is so nice, and you're self-sufficient. I don't know if I'll ever be self-sufficient."

"Well, Muffy, it's the oldest profession for a reason. It's not always about sex. Me 'finishing with a client' in that other story literally meant me going with him to bed and tucking him in like his mother used to do. The only physical contact we had was a kiss on the forehead. Another client has me over to his house, and he cooks me dinner and tells me about his day. I'm only allowed to nod and listen to his conversation right now, but that's okay. I'm getting a hundred-fifty an hour to do that, and I'm getting a free home-cooked meal."

"Wow, that sounds amazing," Muffy gasped. The thought of becoming an escort was once fully taboo, but now that she saw Maria and her lifestyle, she wanted in, but she didn't know how to say it. Luckily she didn't have to.

"I can hook you up with my agent if you're interested. You submit some headshots and fill out a profile about yourself, then you're added to the registry. The clients pick the women, not the other way around, and the agency helps get you where you need to be. You go, do what they want—and you'll know ahead of time—and that's that. You have to get tested every six weeks, and they want us to be on birth control, but it's not that bad," Maria said, handing a card to Muffy from her clutch nearby.

Muffy shook her head, "I don't think Daddy will be pleased with this, but they cut me off. I can't afford anything up here, but I can't get a job elsewhere."

"Well, your daddy can't control the business, and he doesn't have to know either," Maria winked. "It's time for you to live life like you want to live it, and if you want what you had as a kid, this is an easy way to do it, sort of. Dealing with people is a skill, so you'll have a lot to learn, but you sound like you'll have fun."

"I hope so. And I can stay here until I get everything sorted?" Muffy asked.

"I don't see why not, and it'll be nice to have someone to talk to, right?" Maria smiled. Muffy couldn't help but agree, and she made herself at home in Maria's condo. She was worried about the future, especially if her family found out, but Muffy had to do something. She needed her old life back, and Maria was right. This seemed like the perfect way to do it.

Ladonna was happy to have groceries back at home, but dealing with her mother was becoming too much. She'd messed herself and desperately needed to be cleaned, but today Ladonna was a stranger again, a vicious one that she attacked with all of her force. Ladonna could barely get near her, and she was beginning to grow scared. She had no idea what to do, but she knew she had to make some decisions.

She left her mother alone in her bedroom. This made the woman happy, and she began humming and singing to herself in her daughter's absence. Ladonna sighed and moved into the kitchen. She picked up the phone book for the area and started looking for something, anything that could help her.

As she reached some health care services, Ladonna heard a car outside. They were a full mile from the main road, so Ladonna peeked outside to see who it was. It was too early for the mail to come, but she knew as soon as she saw the car that this wasn't the mailman. Her family had come to visit.

Bud got out of his SUV and the other Compson siblings poured out. Ladonna cursed under her breath as she forced the phonebook into its place. It didn't go quite right and fell out, but Ladonna didn't care. She rushed outside almost in tears begging her family to leave.

Bud squinted at his sister, "You want us to leave? But where's Momma? Come on, we just want to visit with you and stay for a few days. Come on, sis, we've driven all this way to be here."

"And I want you gone!" Ladonna hissed. "We're just fine down here without all'a you. I don't have enough to feed you, and this house is too small for a Compson hoe down. Y'all need to leave!" Ladonna spat.

Her oldest sister was hurt, "Please, we just want to see y'all. It's been so long, and we just—"

"I don't care. Please, just get a room downtown and see the sights yourself. I can't have you around here like this. Go, just go!"

Her siblings were obviously upset, but Ladonna couldn't have them here. As soon as they were gone, she moved back into the kitchen and sank down next to the phonebook. Sobs shook her body with extreme force. She'd never cried this hard before, so hard that it hurt to even attempt to breathe. She'd just thrown out her family, the only people who could help her, but she had to. She knew her mother was in rough shape, and she needed to get her in order first.

Ladonna had no choice but to attempt to stop her tears so she could continue her search. She got herself under control and flipped through the phonebook again. She found the healthcare services and noticed there was a new organization in the area, a nursing home facility with independent apartments, assisted living, and full-time nurse care. Ladonna looked at their ad next to the number and decided these were the people she needed to help her. Her mother had to go to Magnolia Springs, but she had no idea how she was going to afford it.

Her mother's cries told her it was time to try again. Ladonna kept the phonebook on the kitchen counter opened to the right page. She went into the master bedroom, and like before, the unfamiliar Ladonna was the enemy. Her mother threw a lamp, narrowly missing the young twenty-something, and Ladonna fought to maintain composure. She was finally able to get to her mother and direct her into the master bathroom. With a stern, drill-sergeant-like voice, she demanded her mother get into the shower and bathe herself.

At first the clothes remained on, but Ladonna's stern demands got their point across. Soon her mother was naked and soapy, her nasty scent dissipating in the cleansing water. After ten minutes, Ladonna helped her turn off the water and get dried off.

Suddenly her mother knew she was family, and after getting dressed in clean clothes, her mother asked her to do her hair. She was Cherie now, a cousin her mother grew up with, and Ladonna fulfilled her wishes and finished her hair. She then offered her mother food, and the two went to the kitchen. Her mother was quiet as she ate, then she wanted a nap. Ladonna helped her to bed and returned to the kitchen to clean up.

When she was done, she picked up the phone. She called Magnolia Springs and told them her situation. The case manager said she'd look into her case, then they would figure out what to do for her.

The call ended and Ladonna sighed with relief, sinking into a chair. She hoped this would be the way to get her mother the proper care she needed, but her memory showed her there were more problems. She'd sent her siblings away with force, and she knew that would start speculation that she couldn't escape. She'd have to come clean eventually, but she wouldn't start today. She needed to rest, so she put her head down on the kitchen table. Within moments, she was fast asleep.

Lunch time usually meant a chance to go on a lunch date, but today Bitzi was out with the girls at the office. Kimberly did the numbers down on the first floor, but she and Bitzi worked closely together to make sure everything got done. Palladia was from marketing, and she spent her day on the phones seeing who wanted ads, who wanted more ads, and who wanted to keep their ads in the local edition. She and Bitzi talked at meetings sometimes, but they'd all grown closer over one key issue—dating.

At a local café downtown, the women sat around a table enjoying salads and mildly alcoholic beverages. After getting their food together, they three immediately jumped on their main topic of conversation. Kimberly and Palladia followed Bitzi's blog, and they needed all the details on her disaster date with the fake twins. Bitzi obliged, unhappy to be the butt of the joke again but content to telling her story if it possibly meant getting good dating advice from some other local singles.

But as the conversation shifted to Palladia, it was clear that one of them wasn't exactly single.

"So, I heard you've been seen out with the same guy a few times now. Who is he and where can I get one?" Kimberly grinned before taking a bite of her salad.

"I guess we have gotten a little serious. We met on a dating app, took a break for a while, then we met back up again recently. He needed me for a bowling tournament, then he took me out the next night alone to celebrate our win. And last night we just wanted to hang out," Palladia smiled. "We're not exclusive or anything, but yeah, I guess we're serious."

"What kind of bowling tournament?" Bitzi asked. Though she and Buster only kept up with each other on social media, she remembered him winning a local tournament within the last few weeks. Bitzi knew there were older guys on his team, so she was curious to know which one of them she was dating.

"The cup at that joint just outside of town. I don't remember the name of it," Palladia admitted. She shifted and turned to Bitzi, "Wait, what was your son's name again?"

"My son's name? Wait a second, are you dating Buster?" Bitzi gasped. Kimberly fought to keep her latest sip of her drink in her mouth as Palladia turned bright red. Bitzi shook her head, "I can't believe you're with my son. I mean, I'm happy for you, but the age gap!"

"It's only five years," Palladia whispered. She sighed, "Now that I know, I'm tempted to cut him off. I mean, that's just too awkward. I can't be in this circle and date your son, even if he is wonderful. What do you think?" she asked, turning to Kimberly.

Kimberly shook her head firmly, "Nope, I am staying out of this one. God, this is so juicy today! You should warn a woman before you drop a bombshell like that. How unexpected on a lunch break. I am not buzzed enough for this."

Bitzi sighed, "It's your choice. If you're happy with him and want to get serious, you have my blessing. Considering his last girlfriend was borderline homeless and used him like he was her father, you're quite the catch for him. I can just pretend he's not my son. It's not like we're close anymore."

"Now remind me what happened to his father," Kimberly said, taking another sip of her drink. "I need the whole story here so I can keep up."

"We've been divorced for years," Bitzi sighed heavily, taking a long sip of her drink before continuing, "We just weren't right for each other. He was gone all the time, and I felt like I was living by myself. We decided it would just be better if we went our separate ways, and it's worked. Buster grew up to be a well-adjusted young man who got to see the world on his summer vacations. Now he and his father go for excursions all the time, and it's wonderful. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Too cordial," Palladia said, shaking her head gently. "I don't hear a final straw sort of thing. Most women would love it if their man was never there. You get to fulfill society's whims, get your rocks off every now and then, and you don't have to deal with him hogging all the covers or leaving his crusty socks on the towel rack in the bathroom."

"He had his issues," Bitzi admitted, "but I don't talk about them because he has changed now, supposedly. He had a habit of getting drunk at the airport and having one-night-stands with different women. I couldn't handle it. He seems to have improved because he's engaged now. His wedding is in the Bahamas next month and I'm thinking of going."

"Who is he marrying?" Kimberly asked, a Cheshire grin on her face. Bitzi was reluctant to answer because she knew they were fishing for drama, but she told them the truth:

"He's marrying a fellow pilot, one of the few females on the fleet, or so I'm told. I've never met her and Buster hasn't either, and I don't follow them on social media."

Palladia grabbed her phone as fast as lightning, and Kimberly was immediately hovering over her shoulder. They already knew Bitzi's ex was named Bo, and it didn't take long to find Bo Baxter the Pilot on Facebook. After a little digging, Palladia and Kimberly shared a knowing smile before handing the phone to Bitzi.

"There's his fiancé," Palladia smiled, rotating the phone around. Her smile immediately faded, "Bitzi? Are you okay?"

Bitzi fell forward against the table, her head missing her half-full salad bowl on the way down. She just couldn't handle the shock—her ex-husband was marrying a man.

Belinda had five minutes to herself for lunch, so she went out to her car and pulled out her phone. She'd already shoved a burrito down to sustain her for the rest of her long shift, but what she needed right now wasn't food—she was looking for a new job.

The listings in and around Elwood City were plentiful for nurses with years of experience, but the pay was lacking. There were some private jobs that offered wonderful amounts, but Belinda wasn't educated enough. She was an LPN, not an RN, and it showed in the jobs market. She wanted to make more money if she was going to shake up her life, but she knew she might need to see what was out there, jump, and worry about the rest later.

Then she saw an institute in Hollydale, a small suburb of Metropolis that was halfway between the large city and Elwood City. The pay was good and the commute was worth it. There were three shifts, and she could apply for any of them once she passed the interview.

Belinda saved the listing to revisit on her home computer. She needed more time with her husband and daughter, and if this was the way to do it, she had to go for it.

With her business done, Belinda returned inside to find total chaos. An unruly patient on a mission was terrorizing her fellow nurses and other staff members, so Belinda joined the fight. They were eventually given permission to sedate him by a doctor, and the nurses distracted the belligerent man so Belinda could stick him. A few moments later, he hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, so they carried him to bed and tied him down to ensure no further chaos. Most of the staff stuck around to talk for a moment, but Belinda got back to work. It was three a.m., too late for chit-chat. She went back on her rounds and kept going as if nothing had ever happened.

Hours later she was about to head for her car, but her boss found her at the nurses' station and called her into his office. Belinda clocked out and followed him inside, closing the door behind her.

"I saw what happened earlier. Nothing phases you anymore, does it?" he asked. Belinda couldn't read his tone so she remained silent. The boss turned to her, "It's a good thing. We've been looking for a tough nurse to transfer to the psychiatric hospital being put in at our Metropolis campus. Would you be interested?"

"I'm afraid I don't do psychiatric wards. That's where I started, and I refuse to go back," Belinda admitted. She preferred normal patient recovery rooms, not people with severe mental illnesses. While she could handle when one or two patients had a moment, she could not handle constant moments from every patient. That wasn't how she liked to work.

"The pay would be rather good for a nurse at your level. Fifty an hour with eight hour shifts, which is four hundred a day. Is that alluring enough for you?" he asked.

Belinda shook her head. She wouldn't do harder work for only twenty dollars more an hour. The job she'd looked at earlier offered the same amount for the same work, showing Belinda exactly where the bar was with other institutions.

Her boss was disappointed, and Belinda could tell these negotiations weren't over. She left without trying to negotiate her current conditions. Belinda knew one thing and one thing only—she was done with this hospital, and she was eager to leave.

Anita had just finished looking over an expenditures spreadsheet when she heard her husband get home. He'd crashed into the garage door, denting it slightly. He came in swaggering, leaning against the wall for support. Anita watched as he pulled himself slowly up the stairs, and soon he disappeared into the bedroom.

When she was sure he was upstairs, Anita pulled up another tab on her laptop. It was for a local rehab center for recovering alcoholics and drug addicts. She'd been looking into something like that for her husband ever since her conversation with Doria. While she had hoped to use her business's franchise to distract her from her husband's problem, she couldn't live with the guilt if his bad habit finally hurt one of their neighbors and friends, especially children. Anita needed to force her husband to get help, and the site had ways to do that.

First Anita wanted to attempt to get him to go on his own, but she knew that would be tough work. James had always been stubborn, and he'd always been reluctant to listen to his wife on any medical-type issues. Anita saw this as an illness, and she knew that convincing him to get treatment for his illness would be difficult. Add in the fact that he was rarely sober, and she knew she had a task ahead of her.

After putting away her things, Anita went upstairs quietly. Her husband was passed out on his stomach in the middle of their bed. His snores were loud, so loud they shook the silence of the evening, but Anita kept her mind on her tasks. She searched the room as carefully and as quietly as she could, checking every spot she knew he could be hiding a drink.

When she was done with the master bedroom, Anita went from room to room gathering her husband's stashes of alcohol. She was shocked at all the bottles she found, large and small and at various levels of emptiness. She put them all in the trunk of her car, and after checking one last time to make sure her husband was out cold, Anita drove two blocks over to Doria's house. She was about to go to bed when Anita arrived, but she joined her outside in her bathrobe at the garage.

"Is that everything?" Doria asked, a hint of shock in her voice upon seeing all of the bottles in the back of Anita's car.

"Everything in the house that I could find, and I looked everywhere," Anita sighed, exhaling as she opened the lid to Doria's trashcan. "And I'm getting rid of every last drop. In the morning, I want him sober. I'm going to ask him to go in for help."

"Good luck. Are you sure talking to him angrily sober is a good idea?" Doria asked.

Anita shrugged as she tossed in the last bottle, "What choice do I have? I have to do something, and if he decides not to go in on his own, I'll get a court order. As his spouse, I have power of attorney over him when he cannot make his own decisions, and addicts cannot make their own decisions when they're clouded over. The site made that clear, and it shouldn't take long to get him in once I start the process."

"Call me if you need me," Doria smiled as she watched Anita close her trunk and get into her car. Anita sighed but said nothing more. She would call if she needed it, sure, but she still had no idea what to expect from her husband.

Molly was just finishing up her shift when her doctor called. Molly was supposed to go to the grocery store as soon as she got off of work to get groceries, but her doctor made it clear that she was supposed to go straight to the office.

Molly was nervous as she drove over, but she kept her head high as she entered the nearly empty office. The only remaining nurse led her directly to the doctor's actual office, a room Molly had never been in before. Pictures of his family cluttered the walls between his specialization certificates and art pieces, and the room was comfortably full of the doctor's things. Molly focused on a mask behind his desk as the doctor looked through a file. When he was done, he looked up to Molly with a blank expression that seemed to be hardened on his face. This was not going to be good news.

"I was hoping to find an ulcer or something else as benign as that, but I'm afraid that wasn't the case. Your biopsy results came back from the samples we took during your endoscopy. It's cancer. We'll need to do more tests and scans to figure out what we're dealing with, but my fear is that it's spread to other areas. You've mentioned tiredness, and I detected some swelling in your lymph nodes. My guess is that it's spread to various areas of your torso, and we'll know what treatment can do once we do further scans. I've scheduled your first one for tomorrow morning. No food after midnight, and you'll need a ride home."

Molly sighed, "I can see what I can work up. At this point, what is your prognosis?"

"I can't say until I get those scans, but judging from your scopes, if the cancer is just where we found it, seventy-thirty. If it's spread, fifty-fifty. If it's spread too far, it just goes down from there. The treatments we have available to us are top of the line, and they've improved greatly just in the last decade. But until we know exactly what we're dealing with, I can't be sure, and that's all I can tell you. I'm sorry, Molly. This isn't what I wanted," the doctor said with genuine concern.

Molly nodded, "I know, but I just had that fear when I went in, and now you've confirmed it. I'll be there for the test. Do you have some paperwork so I'll know where to go?" she asked. The doctor handed her a stack that contained his plans for the next day along with pamphlets about stomach cancer and cancer treatments. Molly thanked him and returned to her car.

After taking a moment to stop the world from spinning, Molly had to make a phone call. She needed a ride for the next day, and the only person she could think to call was Rattles. They hadn't talked in several months now, but he'd been busy getting his life together. He'd gotten married to Eliza, a girl from their high school, and they had two kids now. If he wasn't busy, Molly hoped he could be her ride. She just hoped she wouldn't have to tell him too much.

"Molly, is that you?" Rattles asked. Molly confirmed her identity with a low murmur. Rattles laughed, "I was just talking about you. I saw James the other week and just remembered to tell Eliza how tall he'd gotten. How have you been?"

"I've been better, but we're doing okay. I…I need a huge favor from you. What are you doing tomorrow?" Molly asked.

Rattles took a moment before responding, "Well, once I get the kids to daycare, I can come into work a little late. Why? What's up? Is your car on the fritz?"

"No, no, I just need to get a little procedure done and they've asked me to have a ride. James doesn't drive yet, and I knew I could trust you to keep it on the down low."

"Wow, that sounds serious. Why don't you tell me tomorrow? When should I pick you up?"

"I need to be there around nine, so just come by when you can. It's only a few minutes away from my house. Oh, I'll have to text you my address. They changed it when they put in that new apartment complex," Molly warned. Rattles nodded and ended the call.

After taking yet another moment to pull herself together, Molly started her car and went to the closest grocery store. She picked up milk, eggs, bread, and some cake mix, which caused her to get some stick butter as well. Then she grabbed some premade fried chicken from the store's deli before heading home. She opened a few canned vegetables and had everything ready for James's return, including the fresh cake.

They ate like kings before going their separate ways. Molly wanted a bubble bath, then she needed to do something online. James had some homework, and they went to their own bedrooms for privacy.

When Molly was done with her bath, she pulled up her laptop and did some searching. She didn't look up information on her cancer because she knew the doctor would help her. What she did look for was a way to pay for her treatments. She knew they would be expensive, and she doubted her insurance would cover much of it. She needed charity, as much as she hated to admit it. She didn't exactly know what she was in for, but she knew that asking for help after so many years of doing things herself would be the hardest part of this disease.

Prunella was attempting to eat when she got the call. Dr. Mano was putting her sister on sedatives after an outburst at the facility. Prunella hadn't expected this development, but she was expecting what he said next—he thought she had the same mental illness their mother had. Dr. Mano told Prunella they'd start working on controlling her symptoms using medication, but she needed to stay in the hospital until the doses appeared to be working. Rubella was currently a danger to herself and others, something Prunella expected. She got off the phone without any new information. Everything he told her was as she knew it would be.

Despite the phone call and Prunella's genuine concern, Prunella had work to do. Her sister had been in the hospital now for three days, and in that time, Prunella had acquired three world-related crises. She had to deal with them if she wanted to keep her clients happy, and despite nearing the thirteenth hour at the office, Prunella would stay there ever longer to get her work done. At the moment, she was alone, but that was how she preferred it. The quiet helped her work.

Two hours later, Prunella was nearing her threshold for how much work she could do in a day. The coffee she'd brewed continuously since five that morning was no longer working, so she knew to call it a day. She gathered her things and turned off lights and appliances before making her way to the door.

When she opened it, she was surprised to see a gentleman standing outside. He eyed something in his hand before looking up to Prunella, "Can you help me find this please, ma'am?" he asked with a light British accent. He sounded like a real gentleman, and Prunella was happy to point him in the right direction.

As she drove back home, she was surprised to see similar-looking men nearly everywhere along her way. She smiled to them and waved, and often they waved back. She was enjoying the strange coincidence as she finished her trip and headed into her house. She sat her things down in their designated spot and changed into her pajamas. She was about to go to bed when her phone buzzed. She recognized the number as one of her coworkers so she answered it.

"Hey, did I forget something?" Prunella asked.

"No, no, I was just out when I saw you. Are you okay?"

Prunella was surprised, "Um, what do you mean? I'm a little tired but I'm perfectly fine right now. Why do you want to know?"

"We just saw you in your car waving and smiling to no one in particular. I was out with a few people who know you, and we were all a little concerned. How tired are you?"

"I guess I'm exhausted. Look, it happens to everyone. I thought someone was waving at me, so I waved back. Maybe I was just seeing things. It's okay," Prunella laughed. Her coworker blew it off too, and they let Prunella go so she could get to sleep.

But Prunella couldn't just climb into bed. She realized the cordial man she'd seen everywhere probably wasn't a real man at all, whether he spoke to her or not. The only way Prunella could tell was to go on the business's security feeds and pull up the video from when she left. Prunella went to the feed and watched carefully as she went back in time. She saw herself leave the building and turn to speak to the man.

But there was no man. Prunella was talking to herself, which meant she had been waving to herself for her entire trip home.

Worried, Prunella immediately went to bed, but her mind was racing. She'd seen spots before when she was tired, but never a live man that she thought was real. Her family's history of mental illness was beginning to scare her. Her sister had been officially diagnosed with the same issues as their mother, and now Prunella had to wonder if she was next.

Marina's decision was far from coming. Nothing she or Anthony had heard was real fact at the moment, so she wanted to hold off before considering his offer to help her find a job. That was what she resigned herself to, and three days later, this decision was the same.

But as the faculty piled into the cafeteria for their weekly meeting, she knew things were tense. A fog seemed to be over the room. Their meetings were normally lively and filled with snacking and other fun exchanges. Today the room was deafenly silent. Marina's ears rang as the school's leaders finally entered the room and told them all what they didn't want to hear—unless they charged the students or changed how the school was run, it would close at the end of the school year.

Solutions were discussed, but it was clear that the leaders would rather see the school fall than compromise the school's initial building blocks. The integrity of the brand depended on that, and they hoped benefactors would see their suffering and attempt to help before the school disappeared forever. That made several people unhappy, but that was how it had to be in the school's eyes.

When the meeting was over, it was clear that the teachers were all ready to look for new jobs. As Marina returned to her classroom to get her personal belongings, Anthony followed. He wanted to know what she thought, but Marina was numb. She didn't want this dream job to be fading, but she knew it was. She wanted to stay in denial a little while longer, so she went home without giving him an answer.

As she contemplated her future, Marina knew the only way she could get a job in a regular school would be through connections who were willing to vouch for her abilities. She couldn't grade papers unless they were written in braille, and she would have trouble dealing with student pranks without a proper assistant. She was handicapped, and schools catering to non-disabled students didn't understand that. If Anthony's father was willing to listen to his son and help her, maybe she would have to take up the offer.

For the first time in her life, Marina found herself wishing she wasn't blind. If she wasn't blind, she wouldn't have this limitation. She could get a job wherever without even thinking, and she wouldn't have to worry about being marginalized for any reason.

Marina started to cry at the thought. She'd always thought of her disability as a gift because her mother taught her so. Being blind gave her a new perspective, as well as tolerance for the differences present in the world. Wanting it to go away was the worst thought she'd ever had, and it upset her.

But she was more upset at the world itself. She didn't want the school to close, and her emotions made her want to fight for the viability of the school. She needed to get the community to help get enough money to keep the school going. She needed to cure their blindness, not her own.

A/N: Here's another installment. I think I'll wait to put Chapter 3 up on WordPress. I totally rushed my last post and didn't tag nearly enough characters, so I think I'll wait another day or so before I work on that.

While I'm here, I'd like to let everyone know that I'm finally finished with college. Today was my final meeting with my professor, and pending my internship boss's report, I'll be getting out of here. It's bittersweet, of course. I really enjoyed the English department here, and I met some amazing people while I was here. Add in my personal life, and yeah, it's weird that I'm finishing college now instead of maybe sooner (my grandmother that passed away always wanted one of us to graduate college. My mom's associates degree wasn't enough-she wanted more. Well, now I have it and she passed away a month ago). But I have a job and a way better commute, plus more writing time. Expect more posts from me, and I hope you guys are enjoying Not Done Yet:)


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

David stepped into the bedroom ready for bed. Jane had prepared dinner for him and the girls earlier, and she even ate a bowl of soup with them before sitting up in bed for the rest of the night. She'd been waiting for David to come to bed because it would be their first time alone together for the day. She had a serious topic to discuss, but she'd ease into it.

David slipped on his pajamas and sat on the edge of the bed, "Well you seem to be doing better today. I didn't expect you to have dinner for us when I got home."

"You know it was no thanks to you," Jane whispered without much feeling, but the words themselves struck like lightning and shook like thunder. David's arms fell weakly and his arms fell limp into his lap.

"You know I can't control it, Jane. I needed those pills."

"Well I need you to stop. You have two options at this moment. You either check yourself into rehab or you go to jail. Those are your only two options, the only options I will allow," Jane said fiercely.

David was confused, "Jail? How are you going to put me in jail? I haven't stolen anything—"

"Like hell you haven't! You took pills from your mother. We don't have a key for her house, David. You snuck in and took her prescription, and she's furious enough to help me. Who do you think helped me come up with the idea? She's as worried as I am right now!"

"Worried about what?"

"Your health, our daughter. If you take her pills the way you did mine, she'll never make it through this surgery. I want you away from us when she goes in and while she recovers. You need to go into rehab so you can actually call her. Jail doesn't offer free phone calls, and if you think I'm paying for it, you're crazy."

"Won't we have to tell the kids?" he asked with a cocky tone, as if he had found a loophole.

He hadn't. Jane leaned forward, "I'm going to tell them you're doing a job. Thora already has everything I need for proof, not that they'll need any. I don't lie to them, and up until now, the only lie we've told them together is that you don't have a problem. They have no idea, and I won't let my daughter's surgery be when she figures it out."

David shook his head, "I don't understand. I would never take pills from my own daughter, but you and my mother are teaming up against me? I just feel so attacked right now."

"As you should!" Jane hissed. "How do expect us to feel about how you act? I'm more than happy to send you to jail, but you'll get a few days to get yourself into rehab, three exactly. Then I'm calling Thora and she can settle this."

"Fine, whatever," David spat, grabbing some of his things and fleeing the room. Jane sighed heavily and kept reading. She'd taken the first step, and she wouldn't falter now.

Francine knew that today was a new day, more like tonight was a new night. After her disastrous lunch with Samantha, Francine talked to some girls over a short break that afternoon. Now she was hosting an impromptu nacho party in her apartment with three of her coworkers, all of whom she'd seen with Thornton's hand up their ass. Francine quickly made several cheese dips and cocktails, and now she and the girls were living it up while chatting. When the conversation suddenly turned to work, Francine decided to ask the hard questions.

"So, how long have you all had problems with Thornton?" she asked. At first, they were meek and refused to acknowledge the problem. Then Francine sighed and said, "Look, girls, I know she does you all the same way he does me. I've seen his hands. I know what he does."

"Yeah, but there's nothing we can do about it," one said. The blonde beside her blushed, but then she joined in as well—there was nothing they could do about Thornton's behavior.

"You know, I thought there was nothing I could do too, but now I realize there's nothing I can do without help," Francine explained, dipping a tortilla chip and popping the bite. When she was done chewing she smiled to her coworkers, "Now I know I need help, your help specifically."

The redhead sat up straighter, "That's why you were at lunch with Sam. You were seeing where she stood."

"And now you're talking to us," the blonde added, cocking her head to the side, "What did Samantha say? Will she help you?"

"She thinks we're fighting a losing battle. Comparable jobs don't pay as much, Thornton is better than his replacements pay wise, and so on," Francine said, careful not to roll her eyes, "She told me that I need to be the change, so I am, and I will be, but I need more people along."

"Well he does it to everyone, no exceptions. Unless you're a client or higher than him on the totem poll, you've had his hand glued to your cheeks once or twice, and he makes regular jokes about having a large penis to his secretary. I should know. We share an office, and when he's not staring at my bust, he's grossing us out. I've looked, girls. Muy pequena."

"Pardon?" the blonde asked. The brunette grinned and translated her Spanish—very tiny.

Francine leaned forward, "What do you girls think? Samantha might be right about the pay, but we can fight for that next. I'd rather make less for a little while than deal with some guy's hand up my butt or ten more years, if I don't leave before then."

"The corporation does have a high turnover rate," they agreed, and they knew Francine was right about their fight. If they banded together to fight the harassment, more of them could come together to fight unfair wages.

But there were only four of them there, and a fifth who refused to be a part of the movement. They needed more before they came forward, but Francine knew she could do it, as long as she approached the right way. Cocktails and nachos worked with these women, but Francine needed to get as many as possible as fast as possible, and that's exactly what she planned to do.

Fern approached the door and rang the doorbell. It was her only day off for the week, and instead of spending it inside her bedroom writing, she was going over to Alex's house to work with him on creating a cover for the book her mother wants to publish. If that wasn't bad enough, it was clear that this was indeed Alex's house, showing that he was doing much better than her. Fern felt embarrassment sweep over her as she waited for Alex to answer the door, and she was tempted to run away before he could see her.

But he opened the door a moment later and led her to a rather advanced workspace. There were several computer monitors, as well as several touch pads for drawing, boards for ideas, and a large calendar for keeping track of dates. It was a full-blown home office, and Alex confirmed he was a freelance graphic designer.

"I've done pamphlets for your mom since college. I did my internship with her," Alex said, passing her one of her mother's information packets, "and she comes to me fairly often for new items. When she asked me about doing a book cover for you, I told her I'd be happy to do the first one for free. I just want you to stay with me for later, you know, when you get famous."

"That sounds okay," Fern nodded. She swallowed nervously, "I'm not really in control here, so hopefully this can really suit me. Have you read the manuscript?"

"Yes, and I'm honestly surprised no one would take it. One of my favorite young adult authors writes like this, but they never go this deep with their characters. It's a shame, but self-publishing is the way of the future. You don't have to deal with middle men when you get big. You can just reach out and touch your followers," Alex grinned as he pulled up a program on his computer and started to work.

"But there has to be a major downside to this or everyone would be doing it," Fern said.

"Well, that is one downside. If you take your tablet or another electronic device and look up free books in a reading app, you'll find thousands upon thousands of self-published works that people are trying to tease you with. Go into the ninety-nine cents books and so forth, and there you are. Thousands and thousands of writers are trying this, and it's not easy to get your book in a real tangible form," Alex explained, picking up a book from a shelf underneath his desk, "This is a recipe book from a local woman who had books printed herself. The bookstores wouldn't cover it, but she marketed online just like you'll do. She didn't make much, but it was a start, and it was enough to satisfy her. Maybe a big company will pick you up if you do well enough."

"It'd be nice," Fern whispered. "I've been trying to do it on my own for years now, but no one wants it, and some have asked me to stop approaching me unless I find a reputable agent. It's depressing. I worked hard on these books just for them to be ignored."

"Well, this could change that, if it's what you want. I gather it's not?" he guessed.

Fern nodded, "Mom saw some rejection letters and went on the crusade. I'm still able to write in my spare time, and she'd not editing the content…yet. I just feel like it's happening so fast."

"It would happen that fast if you were signed too," Alex noted, drawing up a preliminary design as they kept talking. Alex smiled, "I think this is a wonderful way to get started. Several famous authors went this route first, and now they're household names with movies and everything. I'm not trying to get your hopes up by telling you that, but I am trying to convince you that this could work for now."

"Well, I guess I can trust my mom. She does know everyone in town, and that's a pretty good start," Fern said, watching the cover come together. She was happy with the design and the color scheme that Alex had chosen. She could tell he actually read her manuscript. Everything fit with the book's feel and the character, and when he was done, Fern felt no changes needed to be made.

"Well, I'll be in touch with your mom, and you can follow me online and contact me through there if you need me. And remember, when you get famous, I'm your cover guy," Alex winked. Fern nodded. If he could do that with all of her books, then she'd be perfectly happy, at least for now.

Sue Ellen's professor was quick to respond with the information Sue Ellen needed. Judging by the preliminary list Sue Ellen sent, she could get credit for some of the classes she'd already had in France. She just needed to get back to campus to start classes, hopefully within the next two weeks.

Sue Ellen looked over her tiny Parisian apartment and knew this was her chance to leave. Sue Ellen had her own bank account filled with money from her high school and college graduation. She'd never touched that money because her parents always paid for everything. Now it was time to use that money.

Before she even knew what was happening, Sue Ellen had booked a flight, found a small apartment in Elwood City, packed up her things, and withdrawn from her French university. By the day's end, she was ready to get out of there, and with her flight being two days away, Sue Ellen had never felt so free in all her life.

The next morning, she explored the city, ending up at a small café. She got a light breakfast and sat outside to eat it. As she did, she felt someone approach her from behind. She turned to see Pierre with a light grin on his lips. He sat across from her and placed an order with the quick waitress, then he turned his attention to Sue Ellen.

"You weren't in class yesterday like I thought you'd be. Have you finally made your decision?" he asked. Sue Ellen smiled and told him everything. Pierre nodded his items arrived, "Wow, I'm proud of you for taking a stand. What do you plan to do when you get home?"

"Start classes immediately. I found an apartment near the school, so I'll move in when I get there, get the place ready for a few days, then jump into classes. I can get a job close to the university, probably even on campus, just to keep my funds up, and life will be good. I'll finally be doing things my way," Sue Ellen smiled.

Pierre leaned forward, "You shouldn't have to work that hard, with the job and everything. Let me cover your apartment, at least for a year or while you're in school."

"Wow, really? Do you know what you're offering?" Sue Ellen asked with great surprise. She'd never had anyone other than her parents offer to pay for anything aside from scholarship offers. She had never had an individual treat her this way, especially a boy, a foreign boy at that.

Pierre nodded, "I know exactly what I'm offering. My parents pay for my sister to live and go to school in America to become a fashion designer. It's nothing. My family is rich and I'm only in school for my own desires. When I finish, I'll go to work within the family business. I'll never use any of the information I learn here, unlike you. You appreciate history and you want to live by history. I appreciate that within you, and I want to help. Please, let me pay for you."

Sue Ellen was shocked at the offer, but she knew she should take it. Her one-way trip home and the down payment, plus her books, would drain her account to dangerous levels if she wanted to continue. She could probably lie to her mother to get some money from her for supplies, but she'd rather pretend everything was well, something Pierre could do for her without Sue Ellen having to find a job.

Sue Ellen looked up, "If you're really up to that, I think I'll take up your offer. But what do you want in return?"

"Your happiness," Pierre said with a genuine honesty that Sue Ellen hadn't heard in a while. Pierre leaned forward, "I want you to get your degree, maybe even a top-level degree, and I want you to use it however you see fit, as long as you're happy."

"I can do that," Sue Ellen said, writing down her cellphone number and sliding it to Pierre, "That's my cellphone number, and oh, I'll add my email. You can contact me that way and we can work out the details."

"I'll email you when you get home. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow night," Sue Ellen said, having trouble keeping down her excitement.

Pierre smiled, "Alright, I'll email you in two days' time in the morning. Do you need a ride to the airport?"

"No, I think I'll take a cab so I can enjoy the city one last time on my own. I do like it here, but this is my mother's dream, not mine."

"Well, you're changing that with your actions. I wish you the best, and it was nice to share classes with you. We'll keep in touch," Pierre said, finishing the last bite of his pastry and leaving Sue Ellen alone.

Sue Ellen sat stunned in her seat. She didn't expect Pierre's offer, and she still wondered if it was too good to be true. She finished her breakfast and went to pay for her meal, but the waitress said she'd already been paid for by her friend. Sue Ellen smiled, and she hoped this would continue. If it didn't, she would have a tougher time of things, but she would still try her best to get through.

Jenna needed some of her personal documents to fully stay away from Frank, so after a doctor's appointment with her mother's doctor, her mother went with a sheriff to her old home. Jenna was nervous because she didn't know what they would encounter when they got there, but she had things to do at home.

Before returning home from their appointment, Jenna's mother went by several stores, starting with a thrift store and ending with a chain store that sold baby supplies. They'd even gotten some low odor paint so that Jenna could paint the room. She went with a pea green, and now she was painting while her mother was away.

Jenna couldn't believe how quickly her life had changed. Since coming home, she could finally sleep without fear of outbursts, and she knew now that she could raise this child without struggling. When she was with Frank, she was tempted to give the baby up. The way he treated her, he didn't realize she was carrying new life. What would happen when new life arrived? Jenna didn't really want to find out, and now that she was away from him, she vowed to stay away from him.

Several hours after leaving, Jenna's mother returned with a box of her things. Clothes covered the important documents and I.D. cards that Jenna had sent for, and she happily went through the things and added them to her room. When she was done, she went downstairs and found her mother sitting at the dining room table with her head in her hands.

"What's wrong, Mom? Are you okay?" Jenna asked.

"I saw that bathroom, Jenna. I can't believe he locked you in there, but I talked to the sheriff. Because you didn't sustain physical injuries, it'll be a game of he-said, she-said if you try to press charges. He denies everything, and he seemed shocked to see us. Now that your things are gone, it's like you were never there. Filing charges and getting justice is out of the question. Now we just need to make sure he doesn't get access to that baby," her mother said firmly, shaking her head with emphasis.

Jenna agreed with her, but she knew they could do this. Her father would help as well, and everything would fall into place. Jenna was eager for this to happen, and she continued her work in the nursery. Her mother spent fifty dollars on everything they bought, and Jenna knew she'd have to pay thousands more to help her cover the cost of the baby. As soon as she was able, Jenna needed a job, probably something at night so it would work with her mother's schedule.

Knowing she only had a month left before the baby's arrival, Jenna decided to start looking now. She could talk to people now and let them know her intentions, at least, and she could finally get her life back together. She might be living with her parents, but she was still free of a horrible boyfriend. She'd build her life without him, and though she'd have a child to remind her of him, she knew that would be her baby and hers alone. Frank would become a distant memory, and a name that her baby would never get to know.

Muffy was surprised at how nice the office was. If she wasn't there on official business, she wondered if it were an advertising firm, a plastic surgeon's office, or another prestigious place. It was simply too nice to be the front for an escort service, but then Muffy saw it. There was a wall with headshots in nice frames. If she didn't know any better, she'd think this was a modeling agency or a dentist office trying to show off its good work. Instead this was an escort service, and these were the top women in the business. Maria's frame was right at the center of the collage.

"Miss Crosswire?" the secretary called, distracting Muffy. She was reluctant to leave that wall because she knew what it meant. These girls were living the dream right now, but Muffy was waiting to find out if she'd be one of them. Maria had set things in motion, but now it was time to prove herself to the top man in the business.

"Hello, Miss Crosswire. Please, sit," the boss said. Muffy was surprised to see a woman when she entered the lavish corner office with glass walls on two sides. The view of Metropolis was better than she'd ever seen before, and she was envious of this woman. She wanted her job. The boss picked up a file and looked it over, "I'm surprised you've never acted or done modeling before, even a small roll in high school. You really have the art."

"In high school?" Muffy asked. Her résumé included nothing from her high school years.

The boss laughed, "Social media is the best tool in our business. Not only does it help us make sure our girls are top-notch, but it helps us keep an eye on our clients too. We have an entire team of young savvy adults who browse social media day and night looking for anything peculiar. It saves lives, really, but for your purpose, we were just making sure you were the real deal. You are. You're exactly the kind of girl that comes here on a daily basis, but you're not like them. You want the lavish lifestyle, but you're willing to do the dirty work to try to get yourself to the top."

Muffy smiled, "You found my rants about working for my daddy's company, didn't you?"

"Of course we did," the boss grinned, leaning back suavely in her chair. She crossed her arms, "Tell me what Ed Crosswire has been up to when he's not making slave labor out of his own daughter," she insisted.

"He's trying to expand into international markets," Muffy murmured, unsure if her father's affairs were right to discuss in an interview like this.

The boss grinned, "If he doesn't start treating you like family, his clients might have a problem partaking in that. You see, we cater to everyone. As long as you can pay the fees we put in place, you can use our services, seeing that you're fit to be one of our clients. Needless to say, a lot of foreign dignitaries and local hotshots come here looking for someone to show them a good time, usually at very public affairs. If you decide to work for me, you'll get to decide how public you are, and if you'll keep daddy's day job. If you don't and you start working with his clients, I think the dramatic bombshells will fall into place quite nicely."

Muffy smiled a devious grin. Ever since her parents decided to start treating her so harshly, she'd wondered how to get back at them. Chip seemed content living a life under their control even this many years later, but Muffy wasn't. She didn't mind the independence, but the way they showed it to her showed her how nasty the world could be far before she was ready. Playing games with them like this could put a hurting on their business, but she knew it would also sever any ties she had with them. Her smile faded. She didn't know if she was ready for that yet.

The boss noticed and passed her a business card, "I'll give you some time to make your decision, however long you need. Just call and ask for Anastasia whenever you decide. Just remember your rate will probably be somewhere between ninety and a hundred-fifty per hour, depending on the excursion. We take ten percent, plus five for certain outings that cost more for us. We give discounts, you see, otherwise it would be the standard ten. We like to help our clients in as many ways as we can," Anastasia smiled.

Muffy nodded and tucked the card away. She would need some time to think about this, but she knew it wouldn't be much. Once she got started, she knew she wouldn't be inclined to stop. She was worrying about the unintended consequences that could come with such a lifestyle, but only a little. Muffy wanted her riches back. She needed her glittering gold.

Ladonna greeted the nurse in the front yard. She was from Magnolia Springs, the assisted living facility that Ladonna was looking into. From their call yesterday, Ladonna knew their response would be quick, but she had no idea they would actually do a house call.

"Hi, I'm Tina Hill from Magnolia Springs. I'm here to evaluate your mother's needs to see if she really needs on-campus treatment," Tina said, looking over the property after shaking Ladonna's hand, "Ah, this is a lovely place. If we can just bring the nursing to you, we'd like to. It's the same charge as in-facility treatment in some cases, but usually it's cheaper."

"I'd like to keep her here and learn more from y'all. She doesn't recognize me most of the time and it's hard to work with her," Ladonna said, leading Tina into the house through a side door that let into the kitchen.

"Oh this is a lovely home," Tina smiled, looking back to Ladonna, "That's the hardest thing for families to take, them not recognizing you, but they still need our care. We can show you everything, but I'm curious about how bad off you are. You sounded mighty desperate on the phone."

"I am, and my extended family doesn't know about Mama. She's young to be an Alzheimer's patient, and I just didn't know how to tell them. My siblings are in town and I had to run them off. I think people are starting to talk, and now she's just so bad. She messes herself, and I try so hard to keep her and the bed clean, but it's tough on your own. I should've called you or my siblings sooner, but I wanted to take care of things. I promised my family when we moved back down here that I would stay on top of things. I even left school to take care of her full-time when she got bad enough."

"I looked over her file and noticed she'd had a fast progression," Tina nodded, texting on her smartphone, "I didn't know your extended family, including her other children, were unaware of her diagnosis. We have special programs at Magnolia Springs that can help you, and if she's receiving care from us, we can help you get back to school by giving you more time. You don't have to worry about being alone anymore."

With the preliminary chitchat out of the way, Tina wanted to meet Ladonna's mother. Ladonna let her into the master bedroom, and because of her scrubs, her mother was cordial with the stranger despite not recognizing her. Ladonna watched as Tina had a conversation with her mother, which went from normal chitchat to questions about the day, year, and where she was. Her mother thought it was December 9, 1984, and when pressed about Ladonna's identity, she said Misty, which was the name of a childhood friend she'd had ages ago.

When the conversation was over, Ladonna let Tina out through the front door. Once she'd put her things in her passenger seat, Tina turned around with a sympathetic smile:

"Your mother is in rough shape. Luckily for you I won't have to call adult protective services. The way you talked, I expected poor conditions, but you've done well keeping her and the house as clean as you can. I'm going to talk with the attending physician at Magnolia Springs, and I'm going to recommend she stay here and receive 70-30 care. That means people will be in and out throughout the day helping you with anything, from baths to meals, and there will be downtime at night while she's sleeping. If she needs anything more than basic care at any time, you'll be asked to transfer her to the facility. Once everything is decided, you'll be contacted by someone from our marketing department to discuss pricing. Insurance should cover most of what we'll be doing now, but if she needs on-campus treatment, well, they'll discuss it with you. We'll be in touch," Tina said, getting in her car and leaving before Ladonna could say another word.

Ladonna returned inside and made herself a mug of coffee. Her mother was napping in her room after a chaotic morning, so Ladonna was glad to have a few moments to take in everything she'd just heard. The relief on Tina's face disgusted Ladonna when she talked about the conditions. She would never let her mother get so bad off that she'd be walking around a pig sty in soiled clothes. That's why she was calling, and she hoped they could help.

But pricing was a problem. Ladonna and her mother were living off alimony money from her father, money that could go away if he ever decided to remarry. Ladonna needed to go back to school and get a job, and not necessarily in that order. And despite her pride, she knew she needed to tell her siblings. If the family knew, they could support her if need be, but Ladonna wasn't there yet. Her mother was her responsibility, and she intended to keep it that way as long as possible.

Bitzi made a phone call to Buster to discuss his personal life, and as Palladia had told her, they were starting to get serious. Bitzi was disgusted and saddened at the same time. Part of her wanted her coworker to be dating someone other than her baby boy, but another part of her was happy that she actually had someone decent in her life like Buster. Bitzi was still wading through dating apps and personal ads, and so far they'd only turned up disastrous first dates, some worse than others.

As she ate takeout alone in her kitchen, Bitzi wondered if she should try something different. She went to bars and clubs and tried the online thing, but should she try something else? Bitzi used her phone to look up community events. She thought that she might try to get involved with something, then she could meet guys that way.

But as she looked through the week's events, she namely found 12-step programs for various problems, from substance abuse to overeating, and the only charity events seemed to be for churches and their charities. While Bitzi wouldn't mind helping those groups with food drives or markets or whatever else they were doing, using those events to meet a man seemed like a sin in her eyes, even if she wasn't that religious.

Bitzi had written about this before. She just wished she could be happy being single at this point in her life, but she wasn't. Her empty nest sent her to the streets and beyond looking for companionship, and so far she hadn't found anything worth settling for, especially from her first date crowd. The "I'm a twin but I'm really lying to you" guy was nothing compared to some of her other bad dates. And while her blog followers ate up every bad outing, Bitzi was growing sick of it. She needed something else and fast.

After finishing her meal, Bitzi went to her home computer and sat down. After looking briefly at a news site, she went to a forum she sometimes frequented for people who worked in journalism. Most of them were field reporters or other grunts trying to cope with this brave new world of technologies and e-papers, but some of them were higher ups like Bitzi. There was an entire section dedicated to editors, and tonight several people were on discussing a recent controversy where an editor lost their job for not fact checking, an issue that also cost their paper millions of dollars in restitution.

Bitzi weighed in and found herself in a lively debate with another editor who had the same stance she did—the reporter should've lost their job instead. The two fought together against those who agreed with how the case had gone, and an hour into their crusade, Bitzi found a private message waiting for her from the person. He identified himself as Richard from Hickville. He worked for a tiny country newspaper and wanted to know more about her because of her political stance. She told him she was from Suburbia and worked for their largest paper, and soon the conversation continued. Both agreed that larger papers from places like Metropolis put their establishments at risk, and both wondered how much longer the industry could last in this new world.

Shortly after midnight, their conversation ended so they could both get ready for bed. Bitzi hopped into the shower, where the sound of the water rushing around her made her think of Richard even more. As she finished her nightly routine and sank into bed, she wondered what would become of their forum conversation and private messages. Would they keep talking?

Just before Bitzi turned off her light, she got a notification from her phone and checked it. Richard wanted to be friends on Facebook. She accepted then looked over his profile. He was a handsome middle-aged man. He was ten years older but he was also a divorced man with an only daughter. Bitzi smiled as she looked through pictures of Richard and his hound dog. He was from North Carolina and spent most of his free time outside with the dog, usually at creeks or lakes so they could play in the water.

Bitzi loved his down-home honesty, and as she slipped off to sleep, she knew she was crushing on him. She just hoped it would actually work out for once, as none of her recent crushes had.

Belinda was between a rock and a hard place. Rumors somehow spread that she was looking for another place to work, and as she began making plans to interview with the job she wanted, she found herself in her boss's office after work almost every shift dodging plans to pay her more, move her elsewhere, or something else to keep her there. Belinda kept herself composed, but she texted Charles about it after work often. He'd tell her to keep her chin up, but Belinda was finding it to be hard. How could someone with a career in one of the largest field in the United States have such a difficult time with everything?

Once at home, Belinda changed into a comfortable outfit and slipped out of her shoes. Her husband had left her a plate in the refrigerator, so she heated it up and sat in front of the television to eat it. She was just getting comfortable when the door opened and Mei-Lin stepped inside.

"I thought you had school," Belinda said, eying her watch. It was a school day, but she'd forgotten about spring break. Mei-Lin had gone out for breakfast and returned. She offered her mother a hashbrown, and she took it eagerly.

"It's nice to actually see you in person. It's been months," Mei-Lin said before taking a huge bite of her chicken and egg biscuit. When she was done chewing, she smiled, "Daddy said you were looking for a better job so you could spend more time with me. He told me to be as helpful as I can because the interviews would cut into your downtime. He's teaching me to cook, but he's decided not to let you have any yet. I'm not that good."

"You're learning, I'm sure," Belinda smiled. She did the math in her head and realized her daughter was fifteen years old. Her head spun as she realized how much time she'd lost. She'd had her crazy schedule since Binky graduated, and Mei-Lin was ten at the time. That was a long time to put up with her mother's absence, almost five years by Belinda's math.

"Mom, I hope you get something soon so we can spend more time together. I want to go to college elsewhere, maybe even China, and that'll be four long years away from home. I don't want that for either of us," Mei-Lin lamented.

"I don't want it either, and I'm trying. The hospital is trying to keep me there, but I'm refusing them," Belinda winked.

Mei-Lin looked up, "They're trying to keep you there? How did they know you were leaving? Did you tell anyone?"

"No, but when you work that closely with people, things just get figured out. Someone probably heard me make a return phone call or they saw me looking at listings. Either way, so many people are miserable. Two more nurses left last week, and one of their replacements quit after one day. A lot of people are unhappy where I work, and I guess they assume I'm at my wits end whether I've told them so or not," Belinda guessed, though she shared her daughter's sentiments. She was beginning to wonder if her job was actually in danger and her boss was trying to get her something else before all was lost.

But Mei-Lin was content with her mother's answer, and the two finished their breakfast in silence. While Belinda wanted to spend every moment with her daughter, she had to get to bed so she'd be rested up for her next shift. She reluctantly hugged her daughter and kissed her forehead goodbye before heading to bed. Once there, she cried for a long time as she thought about everything she'd missed. Belinda had to get everything together before she missed anything else, just like Mei-Lin wanted.

James was furious to find his stash missing, and he was even more unhappy to see his wife sitting nonchalantly at the kitchen table with the morning paper and a cup of coffee. He muttered under his breath before marching into the kitchen. Anita simply sipped her coffee. She'd found the whisky in the empty cookie jar and bourbon behind the refrigerator. Judging by the slamming of a cabinet, he realized she'd found his vodka under the sink too.

"Who the hell has been in our house?" James spat as he rushed back into the dining room.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Anita said flatly as she turned the page of her newspaper.

"I have a splitting headache that I need a cure for! Has anyone been in our house?" he demanded again. Anita shook her head. James cursed and sank into a chair as he contemplated what to do.

Anita looked up from her paper, "I think we need to discuss this."

"No the hell we don't!"

"See, look how angry you are right now. You do realize what you're so mad about, right? James, I'm worried about you! You're starting to scare me because you are so dependent on your booze. Did you know you could kill our neighbors if you keep this up? How would you feel if you ran into a car full a children and killed all of them? Huh? How would you feel?"

James seemed undeterred. Anita wondered if he was even listening, and since he immediately jumped up and headed towards the den, she knew he'd been contemplating his next move. His stash was gone, even the ten bottles from various hiding spots in the den. James was furious about this, and despite Anita's attempt, he rushed out of the house before they could finish their conversation.

Anita said to heck with it and packed her things for the business. On the way there she found her husband at a liquor store sneaking around the back. She was stopped by a red light and watched him down half the bottle in one gulp, pause, then drink the other half. He tossed it on the ground and stepped back to his car, swaggering as he nearly lost his footing a few times.

Despite the honking behind her, Anita got her phone and called 9-1-1. She called in his tag number and pulled into a nearby auto parts store to watch. Sure enough, a deputy arrived within minutes and pulled her husband over at the same stoplight she'd eyed him at. The field sobriety test was no contest. He couldn't lift his foot up without losing balance, and when asked to recite the alphabet, he cursed at the officer and refused.

Anita was surprised when the officer cuffed her husband and loaded him into the back of the squad car. She wasn't surprised that he'd done it. No, she was surprised because she didn't feel anything, despite being the one that called him in.

Molly wasn't surprised when Rattles let her into the passenger's side, closing the door behind her before getting in himself. Within minutes, he was asking questions, and after a night of thinking about it, Molly decided to be honest.

"They've found cancer, but we won't know how much until I have this test," Molly admitted.

Rattles exhaled deeply as he went pale. It took him a moment to find himself, but all he could say was, "Wow."

"I didn't expect it either, but I knew I needed to get my symptoms checked out. I just didn't feel right, so when I got my job and my benefits, I went up to see what they could do for me. The doctor seemed surprised too. I'm a little young, I guess."

"I just…I can't believe this. I thought you were having a root canal or something. My wife and I joked about how you'd act on laughing gas. Now I feel terrible!" Rattles exclaimed.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. I'm not even that funny on laughing gas. I had it when I had my wisdom teeth and I just sat there the whole time without saying anything. One of my mom's friends took me, and I know she'd tell me if I was funny. She loves jokes," Molly smiled. Her smile faded when she saw Rattles didn't want to joke, "Hey, I'm being serious here. If they caught this early, I'll get treatment and everything will be okay."

"What if it's not okay? Cancer is serious business. My step-father lost two parents and a grandmother to cancer. It's not something that just goes away."

"Well, they're going to try," Molly said.

Rattles turned to her, "What about James?"

Molly exhaled, "I haven't told him. He's in college right now and doesn't need that at this particular moment. I'd love to keep it a secret from him, but if I lose my hair to chemo, he'll have to find out. I want to tell him after this weekend. He's got some important assignments that I want him to focus on, then I'll let him know. I probably won't know anything for a week or two anyway, and I'd rather know something first."

"What about it you-?"

"No," Molly said firmly. "We'll talk about that when it comes to it, but no, I'm not even going to think about what would happen if I died yet. That's too much for me. I have to figure out how to pay for this first. I found some charities—"

"My wife and I can help you sort through those and anything else. If you need anything, even if it's the middle of the night, you have to call me. And if you need a place to stay, we'll figure something out. My mom won't mind taking you in," Rattles said as he pulled into a parking spot at the hospital. The two exchanged glances then it was time to go inside. They separated after admissions, and when Molly came out, she was too groggy to speak. He got her some lunch, which she promised to eat later, then he dropped her off at her house. After making sure she got inside safely, he went home to break the unhappy news to his wife, and to start the crusade to get Molly's treatments paid for.

Prunella spent her entire day shaking off comments from her coworker, who thought her waving incident was a joke. With her sister under psychiatric care, it wasn't a joke for Prunella. Seeing spots or shadows was something she could handle when she had tired eyes, but seeing full-blown people that she could interact with? Prunella was terrified at what that could mean, so terrified that she couldn't bring herself to research it online. If she really was bona fide crazy, she didn't want to know just yet.

She checked in on Rubella through Dr. Mano during her lunchbreak and discovered everything was okay for the moment. Then Prunella turned her attention to work and making things work with her clients. She had a lot of responsibility in her position, and that alone helped her understand that sometimes she would break. She once took two full weeks off after an exhausting 72-hour period where she worked nonstop. Her coworkers encouraged her to take more time off if she could, but now wasn't the time.

After scarfing down a wrap, Prunella got back to work and threw herself into her duties. She needed to finish up several projects before making a personal delivery downtown. After her coworkers insisted ten dozen times that things were okay, she left with the package. She soon found herself in a yoga studio delivering advertising supplies to an old friend, a very old friend. This was the same woman her mother often went to when she needed guidance.

"Prunella, how good to see you," the woman smiled, kissing each cheek before accepting the package, "Ah, how wonderful and timely you are. Let me get my payment. Oh, how's your sister doing?" she called from her cluttered office.

"She's fine, fine," Prunella replied with a light laugh.

"That's good," the woman replied, handing Prunella a check, "You know, I decided to do a reading the other day, and I assume your sister is having one of her spells again. What does she think she has this time?"

"Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever," Prunella lied, well, semi-lied. That was her sister's last fear after riding a train and ending up with strange symptoms. The woman bought it and nodded intensely before a bell chimed, signaling a customer's entrance. Prunella was immediately put on the backburner, allowing her to slip out of the establishment unnoticed.

After dropping off the check at the office, Prunella decided to call it an early night. She picked up some Thai food and went back to her apartment, where she sat down and ate quickly. When she was done, she decided she was curious enough to look up her symptoms online.

She immediately regretted her decision. Prunella was told by the great Web M.D. that she could have any number of illnesses, from an adverse reaction to wild mushrooms to a full-blown psychiatric disorder. Prunella's stress increased tenfold, and despite her usual "no wine before bed" rule, she had no choice but to break it. She needed to sleep to solve her problem, and wine was a better help than any over-the-counter sleeping pill.

Her effort worked, but it sent her into a fitful sleep that provided little rest. Prunella knew it was worth a shot, at least, but she'd have to try something else the next night, especially if she had anymore unforeseen visitors.

It was late, but Marina had things to look up. She was looking up grants and other ways to get money for the school, and she realized she needed a professional writer to help her with her crusade. She'd searched for hours with the same result—she needed a full write-up to ask these places for their money, and Marina knew she couldn't do it herself.

Before calling it quits and heading to bed, Marina decided to post an ad online on a site she used often. The last time she used it was for a family friend looking to sell boxes and boxes of children's clothing that her four kids could no longer wear. Now she was asking for a writer, someone with a degree who didn't mind working for free to perform a charitable deed. Marina knew this was ridiculous, but it was worth a shot.

As she went to bed, Marina knew she'd decided on something else too. She liked Anthony as a coworker, and she always respected how a man with his privileged background could work so well with the blind and partially blind students of the school. He really understood them in a way Marina didn't expect upon learning his history.

But she knew his personality was some cosmic creation, and any partnership she had with his father's school likely wouldn't give her what she needed from her teaching. If he approached her about the job again, she wanted to refuse him. No, she needed to refuse him. She wanted to work exactly where she was working now, even if it meant a fight. She didn't mean it as an insult to him, and she knew she would have to make that clear when she broke the news. She went over the conversation in her head before falling asleep, and then she dreamed about the scenario. At first it was cordial, but then Anthony changed. He grew angry at her refusal before showing her the school. It was nothing like the school for the blind, and all of the students were able-bodied and came from wealthy families.

"I can't do this," Marina pleaded, but Anthony led her from room to room showing her all the pristine children and teachers. His father appeared and he took the image that Marina had always given Daddy Warbucks and Ed Crosswire before he moved away. He was larger than life and seemed to be smoking thousand-dollar bills as he towered over her.

Marina woke up drenched in a cold sweat. She took a moment to compose herself, then she realized what was happening. A trip to the bathroom and an examination from her thermometer revealed the truth—Marina had come down with the flu.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Thanks to her mother-in-law's pills, Jane was back to her normal self the next day with the help of some Advil. After getting the house in shape, she called Thora about having lunch with her. They agreed on an Italian restaurant with a soup/salad deal, and the two arrived just before eleven-thirty for their meal. Jane ordered a brothy soup and Thora ordered a heavy pasta dish, but they both kept the agenda despite their opposite orders.

"I talked to him last night. He feels attacked because we think he's going to take Kate's pills, and I told him he should feel attacked. He should feel the need to get help," Jane spat.

Thora clicked her tongue and shook her head before taking a sip of her drink. She swallowed and sighed, "I just don't know what to do about him. I think we should give him time to see if he'll take our offer, but we can't wait too long. Kate's surgery is approaching fast, and I'm as worried as you are. Kate will need those pills to help her and I just can't let him take them."

"What should we do? I don't want to send him to jail—"

"I don't either," Thora agreed with a stern nod. "But we have to do something about the situation. Have you thought of anything?"

"Yeah, I have actually," Jane admitted, exhaling slowly before looking up from her ice water, "I think Kate should go home with you. I think she should go with you after surgery with her pills, and she shouldn't come home until she doesn't need them anymore."

"Do you think that could work?"

Jane sighed, "No. He's her father, which means he deserves to be near his daughter in her time of need, and moving her in with you would require a story. I might even have to send DW there to make the story work. I could tell them there are bugs or something. I don't know, but I know that's an option that I need to consider. I know you can't prevent him from taking the pills, but at least you'll be thirty minutes away where he won't be as tempted."

"I think he'll still be tempted. I've been doing some reading, and these pill addictions are nasty to contend with. It's hard to convince the person they need help, especially when they've gotten hooked because of an injury. David believes whole-heartedly that he needs those pain pills to get by, and he's started to think he can take them from others because he can use that injury to justify his actions. I don't know if he'd really take Kate's pills or not, but a wife and child should both be similar to a man. If he'll steal from you and leave you in agony, well, he's too far gone and something needs to be done," Thora said firmly.

The women paused as their food was delivered. As soon as the waiter was gone, Thora looked up to Jane for her response.

"I agree with you. He's always said I'm his soul mate, that he loves me more than anyone in the world. But you're right. He tried to use his pain over mine, and I can't let him do that to Kate. Besides, I don't want them to know. All of our kids have so much on their minds already, and I just can't ruin their perception of their father like that," Jane said, sighing heavily, "We can't send him to jail, only rehab."

"Well, we'll have to persuade him if we do that," Thora said, taking a bite of her pasta and shoving it into her mouth. When she was done chewing, she looked up, "Do you know how you could do that?" she asked. Jane shook her head firmly, and Thora nodded. This was exactly how she expected it to go, and she wasn't surprised that Jane was at a loss. Despite her research, she felt that she was also at a loss for how to deal with her son. The only option they had at the moment was to brainstorm other possibilities. But jail time and moving the children seemed far-fetched, and the women finished their meal in silence.

Francine was working on a layout when Thornton came into her office. Like always, his cologne arrived before he did, almost making Francine gag as she worked on her current project. She watched him closely using the reflection of a glass cabinet nearby. He checked out her ass for a full minute before walking up beside her. As she expected, she felt his hand brush against her hip on the way around to her opposite cheek. He gripped as he looked over her work before nodding with approval and releasing her.

"You've been doing fine work, Francine. I was going to let someone else tell you, but I wanted to deliver the news myself. I'm going to give you a raise, pending you decide to stay here for five years. Here's the contract. Why don't you look it over while you have lunch, then drop it by HR with your John Hancock," he said, Thornton's eyes locked on Francine's bust as he spoke. He licked his lips before leaving Francine to her work, the contract resting in her hand.

Francine did need food, so she shoved the paperwork in her purse and went a few blocks over to a taco joint. It was super crowded, which gave her plenty of cover. After ordering a spicy chicken taco with extra sour cream, she ventured to a table far away from the main crowd. She then pulled out the contract and looked it over while her food cooled.

She knew immediately that she couldn't sign this contract without being terminated. She'd learned from her father to always read before you sign anything, and her original employment paperwork looked nothing like this. There wasn't a clause against unionizing or any form of employee group-ups, and there definitely wasn't anything about lawsuits or anything else.

Somehow word had leaked that she and the others were planning something. As she looked over the contract determined not to sign it, the girls from her dinner party entered the restaurant. Soon they were all there, and all of them had those forms in their bags. When they saw what it was, they all agreed it was a ploy, but how did anyone find out?

Francine sighed, "I bet Samantha spilled the beans. She doesn't want us to turn things upside down, so she must've mentioned something about unions for raises. The extra money is to convince us things are equal, but the contract is to get us out if we protest anything. We can't sign this, even if we do need the money."

The others agreed, but they didn't think Samantha would talk. One had seen Samantha with a packet like theirs, a packet she too gave the once-over without signing. She too headed out to lunch, and as if on cue, she appeared nearby with a cup of green juice and a bag from a local healthy food cart. When she spied the women, she darted inside and stood by their table:

"What is this? How did they find out you were planning anything?" Samantha demanded.

Francine shrugged, "We were just ruling you out. You were adamant that we wouldn't be able to do anything. If we sign this, we definitely won't be able to. We'd be out on the street in a heartbeat unable to do anything."

"I noticed that too. The rules in this are beyond ridiculous, and that tells me that they know something about your conversations. I suggest you keep things under wraps and keep your mouth shut," Samantha said, pausing before adding, "but I think we should all refuse to sign this. More money but more rules isn't enough. Are you going to sign your forms?"

A chorus of "no" came from the table, and Samantha nodded curtly before heading back towards the office. Francine eyed her watch and realized she needed to get back too, but her taco was untouched. She and the others scarfed down their food in silence, but an unspoken agreement had been reached—they wouldn't fall for the company's games against them.

Fern came home from her shift at the Greasy Burger to find her mother in her office with her cellphone glued to her ear. It was all work-talk, but judging by her frantic gestures, she had something else going on. After snatching up an apple to attempt to calm her unruly stomach, Fern joined her in her office and waited patiently for the call to end.

As soon as Doria hung up, she turned to Fern and exclaimed, "We've been published! I've been getting orders all day, and everything is set up. I've lined up ten hardbacks to be sent to the house. Alex's cover design was perfect, and I can't wait!"

"Wow," Fern said, but her lack of emotion wasn't picked up by her preoccupied mother. Fern had just met with Alex two days ago, and now the design was finished and the book was ready to be sold? AND there were orders lined up?

Fern was in a state of disbelief, but her mother believed every moment of it. She demanded Fern get a shower so they could go out for dinner, and Fern reluctantly agreed. They'd be going to Sammy's Italian Eatery, probably for one of their family spaghetti plates. The place had been Fern's favorite for a long time, so she couldn't refuse the offer, especially when she was starving. That apple had done nothing for her, but a dinner at Sammy's would be plenty.

After getting dressed up, the family departed to the restaurant, but what greeted Fern wasn't what she expected. Doria had gathered up several business associates and friends, and most of them were trying to get book order forms from Doria, who showed them all how to do it on their smartphones.

Fern kept her head down and her eyes on her food as devices were passed around through multiple people. She had no idea this was what her mother was planning, and she was uncomfortable just by being there. This wasn't what she expected, and she didn't want all of this attention. She knew Alex told her things would be crazy even if she managed to get formally published, but Fern had her doubts. There wouldn't be some huge party the night of the deal, not yet at least.

Hours later, the family returned home to Doria's song of a hundred orders. Fern had already sold a hundred books before she'd even seen the text in its finished form, but something was bothering her. Had her mother edited the content?

Fern decided to ask about a digital copy, and Doria squealed with delight before passing Fern her own tablet from her office desk. Fern darted to her room and looked over the text.

Her heart sank. Scenes were missing, chapters were out of order, and all of it was done under the huge heading of "DORIA WALTERS, EDITOR." Fern was furious. It took extreme self-control to keep her from chucking her mother's tablet into the wall. She felt sick, so sick that she rushed to her bedroom's trashcan, barely ringing the bin as her dinner came spewing out. She wiped her mouth with a dirty sock from her nearby hamper.

Fern composed herself and moved to her computer. She found Alex on Twitter and sent him a direct message asking to talk. He replied with a chat site, so Fern found him there. She broke the news, and he was immediately sympathetic. He asked what she was going to do about it, but Fern had no idea. Right now she was just too sick and angry. Part of her wanted to curl up in her bed and never wake up again, but a larger part of her wanted to take back her works and treat them how she'd always wanted them to be treated.

Alex told her to let him know her decision, and Fern agreed that she would. She then returned her mother's tablet to her office, careful to avoid either of her parents. She just couldn't face them right now, not without an epic meltdown. Fern was eager to let out her emotions, but she needed to be smart. She needed to handle things the right way to ever win in this situation.

Sue Ellen arrived at the airport and took a taxi to her new apartment. It was halfway furnished. The kitchen had all of its appliances, and there was a large, hideous sofa in the living room. But the bedroom only had a mattress, and the bathroom was missing any kind of shelving. She had work to do, but her accounts were bare. She'd already started looking for a job. Even if Pierre paid for everything, she needed spending money now.

Just to learn the place better, Sue Ellen took the mailbox key laying on her kitchen counter and went to find her box. It was located in a central building next to the compound's office, and Sue Ellen eagerly found her box and opened it. To her surprise, she already had some mail. One was a letter welcoming her to her graduate program, but another had a hand-written address. She decided to take it back to her apartment, and she was happy she opened it in private. Inside were five crisp hundred-dollar bills.

"What?!" Sue Ellen exclaimed, feeling for a letter. A green Post-It was stuck to the inside, and Sue Ellen plucked it out eagerly. It was from Pierre. He'd sent her some money to get her started, and Sue Ellen was floored.

Despite their chat and his seemingly genuine personality, Sue Ellen knew to have her doubts. This was a man in a foreign country who was probably trying to woo her. Why did he have to be honest? The money in the envelope could be fake for all she knew, or from his own personal accounts instead of anything from his supposedly-rich parents.

As Sue Ellen pulled out her laptop and connected to her own wifi for the first time, she decided to look up her classmate online. She'd never found Pierre online because she didn't feel the need, but now there was an intense need. She needed to know exactly who she was working with.

After some false finds, Sue Ellen finally found a Facebook page belonging to Pierre. It was a few years old, but she could tell from the photographs that it was the Pierre who was paying her bills. Inside those photographs were family members and friends, but Sue Ellen eyed the background. In one photo, they were at a ski resort's lodge. The painting over the fireplace was a genuine first-edition, probably worth thousands upon thousands of dollars.

Vacations were to exotic locales Sue Ellen had only been to through her father's connections, and their clothes were always the best. Souvenirs of infinite value were given to family members and friends, and many of them thanked them openly.

Sue Ellen sat back from her computer with her mouth halfway open. Pierre was who he said he was, a rich kid with infinite means. He was genuinely concerned for her well-being, and when it came time for dinner and Sue Ellen cashed her first hundred, she realized this money was legitimate too. Pierre and his money was the real deal, and Sue Ellen had no idea what to think. She'd never been this lucky before, but now she was.

As she ate Chinese takeout and eyed her full wallet, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Her mother was calling, and Sue Ellen maintained a careful conversation. Part of her wanted to tell her mother everything, but another part of her knew the level of disappointment would be high. Her mother always wanted her to have a French degree, not realizing how little Sue Ellen wanted such a thing. Neither of them knew it would prove to be that difficult, and Sue Ellen knew she had made the right decision for her own needs.

When the call ended, Sue Ellen looked over her letter from the university again. She couldn't believe she was back at home with the people who had taught her so much during her undergraduate days. She was eager to reunite with everyone in one of her favorite buildings to date, the history building of the campus. Time was moving too slowly, but she knew that trend would only continue. As long as she was lying to her family and friends about her location and plans, time would move as it wished, hopefully concealing ant of Sue Ellen's seemingly ill deeds.

Jenna was thumbing through an expected mother's handbook when her mother got home from work. Jenna struggled to get out of the comfortable chair she'd been sitting in, and as her mother appeared, she watched as Jenna finally hoisted herself up. She giggled before setting down a bag on the floor, a baby gift bag complete with pastel tissue paper and cute artwork.

"One of my coworkers was chatting with me this morning, and when I got back from work, this was on my desk," Mrs. Morgan smiled, shaking her head, "They want to throw you a baby shower, but I told them that would be your choice. Think about it for a few days, then we'll give them the word."

"I don't see it doing any harm," Jenna shrugged, setting her book on the shelf, "People tend to give a lot of diapers and we don't really have many yet."

"Or wash cloths or teething rings," her mother nodded, "We don't have so many things, but we'll get it. And I talked with my boss. As soon as you're willing, you can work at the office in the afternoons. You can even bring you baby."

"Actually," Jenna started, smiling meekly, "I've come across something else."

Jenna's job search for an evening job panned out. She let them know when they called that she was due within the next month, but they needed about that time to get her trained for the position as a waitress. She'd work a cocktail bar downtown, serving drinks and pub fare between ten and three six nights a week. The hours were long but the pay was good, and Jenna's mom could watch over the baby while she was gone.

Jenna told her mother everything, hoping her mother would be proud at her effort and ability to find her own position in such a short amount of time despite her condition. But as she finished her spiel, Jenna noticed her mother was unhappy.

"Jenna, I…I mean, I know you think you're being ambitious, but do you know how tired you're going to be? That baby might not sleep through the night for months, and throughout the day you'll be running for bottles or breastfeeding, or you'll be changing diapers. Baths, have you thought about baths? You'll be busy all day with taking care of the baby, cleaning up after the baby. You'll barely have time for yourself, let alone a night shift job!" Mrs. Morgan exclaimed.

"I think I can handle it, at least, I want to try to handle it. I know this baby is going to need a lot of care, but I need to make it work. I need to be self-sufficient so I can really find myself," Jenna cried, real tears forming in her eyes. She hadn't expected that, but her pregnancy hormones meant she cried often and for little reason. She wiped her eyes with a tissue and eyed her mother.

Mrs. Morgan sighed, "You're right that you need to be self-sufficient, but I don't think this is the time to really start proving yourself. Babies are handfuls, and until you get to know your own baby, you shouldn't make big plans. When would you start? A few days after your due date?"

"Three weeks, but I can talk with the manager after training. Maybe I can get the full six weeks that most people get. That should be long enough to work things out," Jenna offered.

Her mother shook her head with a skeptical look, "I just don't know. If you want to do that, fine, you can try it. But you need to think of your own health, not just the baby's. If you're unable to take care of them because you're winded from work, or if you're dangerous in the workplace because you haven't slept, then you're not doing it right. I don't mind taking care of you, if that's the problem. I know you need help right now, and I know you need to get to know yourself. You and Frank have been together a while now, and he taught you a lot of the wrong things. You need more, and you deserve more. I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I know, and I'll think about it. But I want the training. At least I can do that while I decide," Jenna smiled. Her mother agreed and the conversation ended, though both knew this issue wasn't through being discussed.

Muffy eyed Anastasia's business card. She'd had a rough day at work, running around the building for hours tracking down lost files and botched paperwork, all of which was blamed on her by her irate father. She could still feel his cold stare on her neck, and her ears rang from his boisterous screams. It was the worst day at work she'd had since she started, and Muffy felt fed up.

As Maria entered the living room from her bedroom, Muffy could tell she was dressed up for a client. She paused at the coffee table to put on long earrings of dangling crystals. When she was finished and approached Muffy in the kitchen, Muffy realized these weren't crystals. They were real diamonds sparkling in the astounding natural light of this luxurious room.

"Where are you going tonight?" Muffy asked curiously.

Maria grinned, "I'm going to the opera with a local businessman, a man I won't name but I can assure you that you know if you've been working with your father as long as I think you have. This man loves the finer things in life, and he likes me to go with him so he doesn't have to sit alone. We'll have drinks afterward, then he'll bring me home. It's a simple affair. He's a widow whose children abandoned him. He doesn't want sex, just companionship," Maria explained, checking her makeup in a mirror, "So, have you decided?" she asked, eying the business card.

"Sort of," Muffy admitted. She sighed, "I know I'm sick of working with my father. He yelled at me all day today, and my feet are throbbing from all the running around I did tracking down the files that _I_ supposedly lost," she groaned.

"Wow, that sounds miserable. Why are you having such a hard time deciding? The way you've talked before, this is a typical problem at the workplace," Maria said.

Muffy scoffed, "Typical hardly. Normally he just shoots me dirty looks. I've never been blamed for filing errors before, but today everything was my fault. I couldn't do anything right, and there's a possibility today's hours will disappear from my pay stub. It's happened before and I couldn't get them back. Daddy fought HR and he won, like always."

"Again, why are you having such a hard time deciding?" Maria smiled, sitting beside her.

"Because of what you're doing tonight. You said I probably know this man, and if these people start using me or seeing me out around town, they'll talk. I could ruin Daddy's business, and despite all of the devious things I've done or tried to do in my life, I can't let that happen," Muffy sighed, "even if I want it to."

Maria nodded, "I've heard talks about your father wanting to expand his business ventures again, possibly into international markets."

"You're correct," Muffy nodded, "and I doubt he'd want his daughter to sabotage him by becoming a high-class escort to these clients because he doesn't pay enough. Some of the places he wants to do business with treat women in high regard. If they don't make the same as the men, they make more. If they found out he won't even pay his own daughter genuine wages, they would never do business with him."

"I know you're explaining this to me, and I'm hearing everything you're saying, but again, why not try to ruin him? Maybe he if finds out, he'll treat you better and you can get your dream job," Maria suggested.

Muffy shook her head, "This wasn't my dream. I excelled at science in college for whatever reason. I was average in high school, but the way universities taught the sciences clicked with me. I heavily considered going pre-med, but I decided against it because he was adamant that I join the family business. My mother didn't say anything about the idea, but I think she wanted me to follow my dreams. Now I have zero chance of that dream, at least on my current track. I mean, I don't know if this is really what I want, to be a doctor, but I want a chance."

"So?" Maria asked, tapping the business card, "Anastasia can help you, and if there are any adverse effects, she'll still help you. I think there are more positive effects that could come of this. Your father will get what he deserves, and you could end up helping his clients in the long run. I think it's worth a shot, and Anastasia would agree. Call her and set up something simple for your first run. She'll help you, and you'll see."

Maria had to leave, but her words lingered in the air. Muffy felt the same as she did. There were more positives that could come from this than negatives, but she wasn't even sure if she'd like the work other than the better pay. She needed to set up a first job, so she called Anastasia. She was happy to hear of Muffy's decision, and she agreed to a simple job for her first start.

"There's a family man who will be alone this weekend. He normally plays ping-pong or video games to rekindle his love for his wife. Sex is out of the question because he does love his family. As long as the woman looks like his wife and wants to play, he's eager. Do you like this job?" Anastasia questioned.

"I'm ready," Muffy nodded. Soon she had the time and address. A company car would be sent to the building to take her to the address, and the same car would take her home when she was ready to leave. She just had to make the call, and if anything made her uncomfortable, she just had to tell the man how she felt. The job sounded amazing, and Muffy couldn't wait to start. She ran a bubble bath and relaxed, daydreaming about how the job would go.

Ladonna was surprised at how quickly Magnolia Springs fulfilled their duties. Nurses began coming to the house to bathe her mother, help feed her, and to stimulate her mind. Ladonna was finally able to get real shopping done during daylight hours, so she ventured to the local Walmart for supplies.

As she speculated which toilet paper to buy, she felt eyes on her. She looked up to see a hurt Bud staring at her, his cart full of barbeque supplies. He approached and shook his head firmly:

"I don't know what happened when you came down here, but I expected more from you."

"I'm sure you did. I didn't want to do that, but y'all don't understand—"

"Of course we don't! You wouldn't tell us anything!" Bud exclaimed. He scoffed, "Mama should've stayed up there with us. I doubt she's happy living with a fool like you. She would've been happy to see all'a us."

Ladonna swallowed hard as tears formed in her eyes. She was instantly upset, the emotions of this confrontation taking hold of her throat. Ladonna felt herself sink to the floor as her legs grew wobbly.

Bud was shocked. He'd wondered what his sister's initial outburst was all about, but seeing her on the ground after only a few ill words concerned him. He could tell something was up, but he needed to comfort her to get any real information. He kneeled next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. His anger towards her faded as he felt her body shake with vicious sobs that she contained by holding her mouth tightly against her knees.

"Ladonna, look, I didn't mean it. Something must'a happened down here, something I don't understand. I'm sorry. We just wanted to come down for a nice family visit. Now we're all sittin' over at our aunt's house gossipin' about you and Mama. We don't know what to think, Ladonna. Just tell us. We're family. You can tell us anything," Bud pleaded, rubbing Ladonna's back.

Ladonna felt her sobs subside. She stood up and wiped her tears. She pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose. She then stopped as she realized how loud and obnoxious that noise was.

She turned to her brother and shook her head, "Not here, Bud. Can we meet up in the parking lot? At a restaurant? Walmart ain't really the place to be talkin' 'bout your family business," Ladonna whispered.

Bud agreed, and after getting cellphone numbers, they agreed to meet up at Burt's Diner a few miles away. After their shopping, they ordered barbeque plates and settled outside, swatting away a wasp before getting into their meal. They were silent at first. Bud needed Ladonna to talk first, and she realized that. After getting some of the food down, she looked up. Now wasn't the time for lies. She had to tell her family what was going on.

"Bud, Momma has Alzheimer's," Ladonna said plainly. She shrugged, "When we first got down here, her doc talked with her and ran some tests, some verbal some scientific. He confirmed it was an early kind, and it's progressed fast. She barely recognizes me anymore or she thinks I'm somebody else. I tried taking care of her for as long as I could on my own, but I had to call Magnolia Springs. They got a nurse down there now takin' care of her for me. I just don't know how I'm going to pay for it. I never finished school. Mama needed me."

"Ladonna, why didn't you tell us sooner? We would'a been down here in a city minute if we'da known," Bud cried.

"I know, I know I should'a told y'all what was going on, but I was scared. I didn't think it would happen this fast. One day we're havin' dinner together, and suddenly I'm Charlene. I never did find out who Charlene was, maybe a childhood imaginary friend or somethin'. From then on I was friends or cousins or other kids, and then she just stopped recognizing me as anybody she knew. She almost knocked my lights out a couple times when I tried to bathe her. She messes on herself, so I have to wash her as much as I can, but it's hard to do that when she's on the warpath. That part hasn't changed about her," Ladonna said. Bud couldn't help but smile. Their mother had always been a determined woman.

"But what are you sayin' about payments? Doesn't Mama have insurance or somethin'?" Bud questioned. Ladonna told him she hadn't found anything yet, but she doubted they did. Bud shook his head, "I think we have to tell Daddy. I know you're scared about tellin' all'a us, but Ladonna, you've done all ya can. You need to spread the word and accept help. Compson's stick together," Bud said firmly, pulling out his phone. He turned it towards her, "There's Daddy's number. He's got a new fiancé now, but I don't see him sayin' no."

"I just don't know. Telling you liketa give me a heart attack," Ladonna said with an emotional sigh.

Bud patted his sister's arm, "Well, sometimes we gotta do what we don't wanna do. We didn't want to come down here, but y'all been so quiet, we just saw we had no choice. Now I know why you didn't say anything. I get it. You were scared and Mama must be so sick. I can't imagine her not knowin' alla us. That sounds so—"

"It's tragic is what it is," Ladonna interrupted. "Mama doesn't deserve alla this, but it happened, and I know I shoulda told ya sooner. I feel better already, but what if we can't pay anything? Will everybody really chip in?"

"It's Mama, Ladonna. The whole county'll chip in if we ask 'em. Come on, open yourself up. Let the world in. I never thought I'd see you like this, a turtle on her back hidin' in her shell. You got ta come out, Sis."

Ladonna knew he was right, but she was still worried. She took down her father's number then took her leftover lunch home. After putting up groceries and helping the nurse with a bath, she went onto the back porch and pulled out her phone. After eying the phone for a minute or more, she finally hit the call button without thinking. She lifted the phone to her ear. After two rings, her father answered.

Ladonna cried, "Daddy, I need to talk to ya about Mama."

"Say whatever you need, baby girl. I've been waitin' to hear about y'all for the longest, and I doubt you've heard about me either. You go first. You sound so upset," her father said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

Ladonna told him the big news, then she asked him the big question. There was a pause so long that Ladonna thought the line had gone dead, but then her father said the magic words:

"Let me see what I can dig up."

Bitzi's phone buzzed, and after a quick peek to make sure she was fully alone in her office, she plucked her phone out of her lap and looked at Richard's latest response. It had been three days since they started talking online, and the previous night she decided to give him her phone number. He only wanted to text but that was plenty for Bitzi. She smiled brightly at his latest joke and tapped out a quick "LOL."

"Bitzi, lunch—wait a second, why are you smiling like that?" Palladia smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned on against the doorway. Bitzi slipped her phone back into her lap and shook her head. Within moments her phone buzzed again and Palladia raised an eyebrow, "Come on, girl. Come to lunch with us and dish out those deets. I'll grab my coat and meet you at the elevator."

Bitzi was reluctant. She'd contemplated from the beginning keeping Richard a secret from her coworkers and any other friends that asked about her love life, but now she had no choice but to reveal her secrets. Palladia had grabbed up Kimberly and Tanya before coming to the elevator. They waited with knowing smiles as Bitzi gathered herself, and once she was there, Kimberly pushed the down button and turned to Bitzi with a devious grin.

They all rode in Tanya's SUV per her request, and somehow it was quiet on their car ride to the Mexican restaurant they've chosen for today. It was only after their drinks arrived at the restaurant that the full-blown questioning began from all angles. Kimberly wanted names, Tanya wanted to know the mystery man's origin, and Palladia jumped in when needed to ask whatever the others left out.

Bitzi finally sighed, "Look, it's a new relationship with a guy that's not from around here. We're just talking, okay? That's it, and yes, I like him, but talking is one thing and dating is another. Just drop the subject."

Palladia smirked, "You didn't really want to drop the subject when you found out I was serious with your son. We have every right to push you for the details, whether the guy is family or not. Besides we are just playing with you. You've been fighting this losing battle for what feels like forever. We're happy for you, and we honestly thought you'd talk to us about him."

"Well, this time is a little different," Bitzi said, sipping her drink, "I just…I feel like I need to keep this one a secret for a while, just a little while. As soon as I'm ready, you'll all get the answers you need," Bitzi nodded.

Somehow the women accepted this and changed the subject to a meeting they would have later in the day. Palladia was concerned about budget cuts, but Tanya was even more concerned. She was a journalist by trade, and she was one of the few full-time people still working at the paper. All other writers were freelanced locals who submitted their stories rather than being asked for them. While this meant they had their beats covered, from local government issues to high school sports and beyond, it meant the paper was fulfilling its duties just as well without paying them a salary. A few dollars per paragraph was about all the freelancers could muster, way too little for Tanya to live on without getting another full-time job.

"What are you going to do if they decide to cut the rest of the writers?" Palladia asked. She then turned to Kimberly, "Wait, could that happen?"

"I run the books. I don't keep up with the politics of the task," Kimberly said firmly, sipping her drink and looking up, "Listen, I haven't heard anything. I thought today's meeting might be about the fair coming to town in a few weeks. They want to run a full spread of photographs like last year, so I thought this would be about that instead."

"You agreed with us at first. What changed your mind?" Tanya questioned. Kimberly shook her head before tapping her smartwatch. The date came up and she showed it to her. Tanya shrugged, "You're right that it's coming up, but you can't blame me for being paranoid. Bitzi, do you ever get worried about the budget?"

"Of course I do. I've been here longer than you all, and my job is more at risk because of how much control I have over the paper's content. One wrong story, one wrong stance, and my job will be in the landfill before I can even pack my desk. Believe me I worry, namely because I don't know what else I would do," Bitzi explained.

Tanya smiled, "That's my problem. I don't know what else I want to do because writing has always been my thing. If anything does happen, can you fight for the writers like me?"

"Of course I can help, but we'll see what I can do. I'm just at risk as everyone else," Bitzi said.

Palladia grinned, "And that's why she wants to keep her new man a secret. At least she'll have some control over something."

Bitzi toasted the comment, and the rest of lunch had a much better tone. The women returned to work refreshed, but all of them were still gravely concerned.

Mrs. Barnes left the job interview with a confident gait. Despite being exhausted from her long shift and a lack of sleep, she really felt like this was the final step before her new beginning, a time when she could finally live a normal life with her family.

As she got into her car, her phone was ringing from the dash. She pulled it out a second too late, revealing there were ten missed calls. All of them were from the hospital, and when the phone rang again a moment later, she felt she had no choice but to answer it.

"Where are you? We need you! There's a trauma situation!" her boss demanded.

Belinda was skeptical immediately, namely because she hadn't heard anything on the police radio in her car. She wondered if this was a ploy to get her back to the hospital for her standard shift, and she realized very quickly that she was right.

"Look, that's not my area of expertise," Belinda said firmly.

"Like hell it isn't!" her boss screamed. "Get here now!"

Belinda shook her head. Her feet ached, her back throbbed, and her eyes felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. She wasn't fit for duty even if she was being called in for a normal shift, let alone a supposed trauma situation.

Belinda sighed, "No, I'm not coming in."

"If you don't come in, you're fired!" her boss said with a hiss like a snake.

Belinda smirked as a wave of something—she didn't know what—came over her, "You can take your job. You've been treating me like shit for way too long. I'll send an officer over for the things in my locker. Good day," she said firmly before ending the call abruptly.

Belinda sighed as she realized what she'd just done. She wanted another job before she quit, but she felt they had given her no choice in the matter. Demanding her presence after a twelve-hour shift, which she'd been doing nonstop for the last ten days, was beyond reasonable. They were working her like a dog, and she was done.

After taking a moment to herself, Belinda called her husband with the news. Then she called a deputy friend from the local police department. Upon hearing her story, she agreed to go over to the hospital to get Belinda's things. Belinda told her just to cut the lock on her locker, and the officer didn't mind.

With that out of the way, Belinda returned home. She took a shower and sank into her bed. Within minutes, she heard a car pull up outside. She'd already told the officer to let herself in, and within moments, she was in Belinda's bedroom with a sympathetic smile on her face. After a moment, the lady deputy laughed. The hospital hadn't expected Belinda's reaction, but people knew what was going on, namely because her boss was furious and yelling at everyone he could. Belinda laughed, as did the lady deputy. This would be a funny story in a few months, that day when Belinda told her boss to shove it.

But when the lady deputy was gone, the fear set in. What if that job interview didn't go as Belinda planned? She needed two incomes to keep the house running properly, which meant she needed another job pronto. Worried overcame her and sleep wouldn't come, leaving Belinda even more exhausted despite her initial relief.

Anita stepped into the jail's visitation area and went into stealth mode. Her husband still didn't know she was behind his arrest, that hers was the letter that helped the judge decide his bond, well, his lack of a bond. James was stuck behind bars, and if Anita had her way, he'd receive treatment while there to help him recover after his sentence.

But when she saw her husband, it was clear the addiction was his sole source of comfort. He had that drunk look in his eye, and after a few questions, it was confirmed that one of the guys in his cellblock had gotten him some liquor. It cost James more than Anita had expected. He had to give up food from his lunches as well as do things for the other inmates. He started to tell her what things but Anita drowned him out. She didn't want to hear that, not one word of it.

"I'm going home now if you only want to talk about alcohol and how you got it," Anita said firmly. "When I heard you'd been arrested, I was sick. What if the whole world finds out? Your son could find out. Do you know how devastating that could be to him?"

"He's messed up enough. This won't affect him," James spat.

Anita shook his head, "It's time you learn that all actions have consequences. Clean up or you won't be allowed back home," Anita said firmly, standing up to leave. She stopped and turned to James, "And these rings? I'll sell them for scrap."

The alcohol kept that from getting to James. He had no reaction as he watched his wife walk out of the visitation area. When she was gone, he asked for an escort back to his cell, and that was the end of it.

Back in her car, Anita checked her phone. She had a meeting with a supplier to discuss her current contracts. Anita didn't want to go to the meeting, but it was only an hour away. She had no choice but to make her way to their factory for the discussion. She put her car in drive and left the Elwood City Jail, but she stopped a mile later. Her phone rang with the tone she'd assigned for Alan. Her heart sank as she pulled into a gas station and answered the call. Did her son already know?

"Mom, what happened? I just saw the article on my Twitter feed. Was Dad really driving drunk?" Alan asked.

Anita groaned. Yep, he knew: "Yes, he was, Alan. He's got a real problem, but he's in jail right now. He'll be able to clean up there and get the help he needs."

Alan sighed, "I didn't know Dad had problems like that. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, but you can talk to me. I miss you, baby. You're all the way in Chicago and I'm all the way here. When do you think you can come home? Just for a visit," she added, hearing his hesitation.

"I'm doing things here. I work at a pub here busting tables. It's good work and helps me think. I love it and I hope you're happy for me."

"I am happy for you," Anita said, "but you're my only son. I'm entitled to want him to come home every once in a while, even for a day. Or maybe I can come to you when things settle down. I'm franchising now, or trying too."

"That's good, but I don't know. I'm fine. You focus on yourself, and keep me updated on Dad," Alan said. Before Anita could respond, Alan ended the call abruptly. Anita cursed under her breath then got back on the road. Her business wasn't going to run itself. She had to go to that meeting, whether she wanted to or not.

Molly looked up from her last cleaning and realized it was time to go home. She finished with her client and did the usual chat things, but she was quick to grab her things and rush out when she was done. She was in her car with the keys in the ignition when her phone rang. James was calling her, so Molly answered.

"Hey, sis, I just wanted to let you know I got the job. I'll be here until ten," James said.

Molly's heart sank. She already had a frozen pizza and a gallon of rocky road at home. She was going to tell him tonight, tell him about the cancer they'd found. She was still waiting for the test results to know how far the disease had spread, but she needed to let her brother know. If he was at work, she couldn't.

But she had to play it safe, "That's good, James. Just make sure they let you get some food, okay?"

"Oh it's fine. They ordered a pepperoni pizza and they have some 2-liters around the place. It's nice here and there's good music. I think I'm going to like it here," James said with a level of excitement in his voice that Molly hadn't heard since he was a child.

Molly smiled, "Go get 'em."

The call ended and Molly rested her head in her hands. She had no idea this was going to be so difficult, and so far, it was becoming the hardest part. Rattles and his wife had found several charities, and each of them had started the paperwork to receive the grants. Molly met many of the requirements, and so far, that part of her problem was looking okay.

Now the only problem was the cancer itself, other than telling her brother. Molly wanted those test results to know what she was in for, and she was eager to start treatments. She just wanted this part of her life to be over, but it hadn't even started yet.

Lack of sleep was really starting to get to Prunella. She'd been seeing things for hours, things she knew that weren't real. As her alarm chirped a third time to let her know it was time for work, she knew she needed to call in sick and try to get some sleep. She put in the call and left a message for her coworkers. She wouldn't be at work today.

Prunella sighed as she sat up in bed. She never should've looked up those symptoms. She now saw how her sister went wrong. She was always watching medical shows or dramas, and she was constantly reading books, fiction and nonfiction, containing different diseases and their symptoms. With those things in her head, it wouldn't be hard to make the connection to different diseases. Add in her true diseases and the real problems she had, and it was clear why her sister had always struggled.

She couldn't let that happen to her. Prunella rationalized the situation. She couldn't sleep because of stress, and the main thing causing her stress, other than late-night Web M.D. visits, was her job. She loved it when she first got there because it was a challenge, but now the people around her couldn't do anything without her. Despite calling in sick, she knew that within an hour, they'd be calling with questions. By mid-morning, even if Prunella was disemboweled or sick with the flu, she'd have to go in to save them.

As she thought about her work, she realized how much she hated it now. It was fun in the moment, but on days like this when she really needed sleep and TLC, she wouldn't be able to leave the work behind. That bothered her, especially when she knew so many other careers that could give her the time away from her job that she needed.

Now that she was awake, Prunella made a cup of coffee and got on the computer. Instead of hitting up Web M.D., Prunella decided to check out the LinkedIn account she made a few years ago when she finished college. She'd befriended several professors and their contacts, and after browsing some of their profiles, she wondered what else could be out there for her. She knew the decision was rash, but she wanted something different. She needed an escape.

After an hour, she had sent out some messages and finished two cups of coffee. The phone call she expected came a little after nine. The photocopier was acting up and the repair shop couldn't send out a serviceman until late afternoon. Prunella agreed to come in, and after showering and freshening up, she headed to the office with dark shadows over her shoulder.

Marina's dream was haunting. She avoided Anthony the next day to help keep the images from her mind, but she couldn't avoid him the next morning. As soon as she entered her classroom, she found him sitting at the back of the room flipping through something. When he saw her facial expression, he told her that he was flipping through his father's school's newsletter. He offered to read her some of the things inside because there wasn't a braille edition, but Marina refused. She asked why he was there in the first place.

Anthony smiled, "You know why I'm here. This place is doomed and I want to save my friend and colleague from a troubling job search. My father and I have talked about you, and we think you could be very useful. There are four blind students currently in the local school system, four blind students who could use a woman like you. My father thinks he could start his own school for the blind with you at the head."

"And it would replace this one and give me so much glory," Marina said with an air of sarcasm. She looked away from Anthony and started walking to the front of the room, "I've thought about it, and I'd rather try to save this place than try to find a way out of here."

"That's tough work, especially under the time constraints that you have. I mean, I'd offer to help you, but all of my professional writing contacts do other things. They work in journalism, or one writes manuals for General Motors. None of them do grant work, and I don't think you know anyone who does," Anthony said with a cocky tone. He smiled, "I think you'd be better off starting anew like my dad wants to do."

"Well I don't agree. Look, even if I can't get the money I need to save this place, I don't think I can work for your father. It doesn't feel right, even if he wants me for a new mission. You should talk to someone else around here. They should be able to help," Marina said firmly. She turned towards Anthony, "I'm sorry, but I'm refusing your offer. And if you won't help me, I'd rather we not talk anymore."

Anthony stood, his chair screeching against the floor. It screeched again as he pushed it in with enough force to hit and shake the table he was sitting at. He stammered for a moment before leaving the room. Marina didn't hear any paper so she went to the table. As she suspected, he'd left the newsletter behind. Marina tucked it in her desk at the front of the room and sat down.

He was right that she needed to find a professional writing contact with the skills she needed, but she'd already gotten a lead. In college she met a mostly blind woman with a knack for writing. She transferred out after a year of school, but Marina lost contact with her. She'd recently found her on Facebook and added her as a friend, and now she needed to know what the woman did for a living.

After school that day, Marina went home and sat at her computer. Instead of putting in her students' test scores, she pulled up Facebook and found her contact. Mary Simons was online at the time, and within a moment of sending her a message, Mary responded happily. She thought this was the same Marina she'd gone to school with, and she was eager to hear from her.

An hour passed as Marina caught her up on her life and vice versa. When that was done, Marina asked what Mary was up to lately. She was working with a law firm in Texas, but she was planning on coming back to Elwood City soon to work with another lawyer. Marina decided to ask the million-dollar question: Did she ever dabble in grants?

Mary surprised Marina. That was her job, to work with lawyers who work with companies of all sizes. These lawyers helped them with legal rights, and Mary did the paperwork. Often it was contracts, both their creation and their touch-ups, but most of the time she was helping nonprofits get grants to complete their work.

With that out of the way, Marina told her everything about the school and what she needed. Mary agreed to get started with her million-dollar question. Only certain types of organizations could get grants, so she needed to know if the school was one of those places. Marina helped her find the information, and as the women hoped, the school was the right type of nonprofit.

Everything was settled, and Mary agreed to start working. She would need Marina's help, and the two exchanged phone numbers and email addresses to make the work easier. With contact made, both went about their business. Marina went to her freezer for a meal, but before she could get there, her mother called with a dinner invitation. She picked up her daughter and the two went out for Italian food. They talked about family first, but soon Marina told her mother about her crusade. Mrs. Datillo was pleased with her daughter's project, and she agreed to help if needed.

Marina now had two allies, something that pleased her when she returned home. But Anthony bothered her, and she wondered if he was planning anything beyond her control. She could tell he was rich and powerful by birth, and he wasn't used to people not following his plans. She just didn't know the consequences, but she knew that if there were going to be any, they would reveal themselves very soon.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Jane tapped her pen in frustration. She had finally gotten back to work, but now that she was spread out in the den working on her client's payroll entries for the last month, she could only think about her husband, her daughter, and how his problem could affect her. As she contemplated this, she realized DW was in just as much trouble.

Jane hadn't been ignoring DW as much as DW had been avoiding her. The girl was eighteen and eager to leave high school for college, not that she really knew what she wanted to do. She'd been accepted to Elwood City Community College along with Vicita and a few of their friends, but none of them had really decided on a major. They were just doing what was asked of them, but Jane was worried.

Lately DW had been out but she wouldn't say with who. She'd give a location and tell them when she'd be back, but she would never reveal any details. She would have evidence, however—ticket stubs from the movies or score cards from mini golf excursions. But Vicita wasn't mentioned, and the two wouldn't walk to school together either.

Jane was bothered by this, so she decided to so the one thing she hadn't done for a while: check out their rooms.

After Arthur left, he agreed to give one of the girls his room. DW wanted to stay put, so Kate took Arthur's room and made it her own. She painted the walls a light shade of green and painted his bookshelves grey. Books and stuffed animals covered those shelves, and everything was as orderly as Jane expected.

DW's room, on the other hand, was a disaster. Clothes littered the floor and posters were flung onto the walls, one of them with a blue bubblegum wad she must've chewed herself. The floor was unable to be seen in most spots, and DW's computer was barely accessible for all the things cluttered around it.

Jane went to it and wiggled the mouse. The computer came to life, no password needed, and what Jane found scared her. DW was chatting online with various people, and her latest conversation was about cures for depression. While some responses were normal remedies, most of them natural or behavioral, one dark person who went by Darkness666 suggested suicide to get rid of all of her problems…and DW was responding to him. At first she was skeptical, but this person was convincing. If she killed herself, she'd never have any pain, she could get away from her parents and any bullies, and she would never be depressed again.

Jane was horrified at what she saw, and she rushed from the room barely able to breathe. She went downstairs to her own bathroom and threw cold water on her face in an attempt to calm down. She had no idea what to do, so when Thora came by for lunch, Jane threw it on her. Thora was concerned as well, but like with David, neither of them knew what to do. Confrontation wasn't the answer yet either, so they needed to wait.

But Thora did offer one more suggestion. If Jane didn't mind snooping, she should keep looking on DW's computer for answers, careful to leave it was untouched as possible. Jane liked the idea, but she couldn't bring herself to do it today. That was a task for another day, a day when she was much stronger.

Francine could tell the office place was tense. It had been two days since the initial offer, and so far, she knew of only one or two women who accepted it. Either way, she knew the entire office had received it, or at least all of the office's women. That proved there was a huge problem, and Thornton and his executives were working on a huge cover-up.

After she finished at work, Francine decided to contact her sister again. Catherine was having dinner with friends but wouldn't mind getting dessert with Francine later. Francine agreed, and after eating alone at a diner, she went to a local cheesecake hotspot. Catherine joined her, and the two shared a booth with their slices—Catherine ordered plain but Francine wanted chocolate marble with an Oreo crust.

"So, what's new? Your call sounded really important," Catherine said before shoving a bite of the divine cheesecake into her mouth.

Francine nodded as she finished her own bite, "It was important. They've sent out new contracts with raises attached. If we accept the offer, we lose the ability to protest. The executives must know what's going on and they're willing to cover it up, otherwise they wouldn't have sent out those contracts like that."

"You don't think Thornton added it in the end?" Catherine contemplated.

Francine disagreed, "No, I think this started with him. I think he wrote up the contract first, then the rest of the executives passed it along. There aren't any women up top, and I doubt any of the men would care if the women around the place were being propositioned like that. I think this entire company is corrupt. It's so bad that the first woman I talked to, the chick who refused me, has agreed not to sign the paperwork."

"Wow, she's onboard now? That's crazy," Catherine said firmly, shaking her head. After eating another bite, she looked up, "I don't know what to tell you, but this sounds insane. You know what I think you should do?"

"What?"

"I think you should journal about everything. Go back to the beginning and go from there, and include dates if you can. Then you need to contact a reporter with your issues, or at least someone who can send out the report for you. You and your coworkers need to do that, and when the story breaks, the town will give him no choice but to stop, well, all of them since it's apparently not just the one," Catherine explained.

Francine thought about the idea and she liked it. After finishing dessert with her sister, Francine returned home and started typing. She was amazed at how the process helped her memory, and she was able to add in dates, as well as run-ins that she forgot about before. By eleven that night, she had pages upon pages of entries, and she knew she needed to talk to the others to get theirs started. Then they had to decide who to send it to. Francine would start that work tomorrow. She had no choice.

Fern was surprised to find herself in Alex's room again. After their conversation online, Alex desperately wanted to help her figure things out. After ranting for an hour about everything her mother removed, Fern finally sat on the foot of the bed and gave Alex a pleading look. She needed a way to fix this, and their conversation told Fern than Alex had a solution.

But Alex didn't have a solution. He sighed, "Well, I don't really know what to do here. She edited everything, even my design. That was supposed to be here and the text was a different font. I think the background color was a little different too, not much."

"So my mother changed everything, but why? Why would she do something like this? She seemed so genuine when she approached me, but the way she changed everything tells me this was all for her, every bit of it. Ugh, I'm so lost. I thought you could help me, but we've both been duped," Fern sighed, resting her head in her hands.

Alex turned to his computer and started typing. After a moment, Fern looked up to find him browsing through the results of a search engine. The question was concerning her issue, not his, but after a moment, he opened a new tab and asked about someone editing a graphic design for a project for their own personal gain.

Between the two sets of results, Alex came to one conclusion. He looked up to Fern to see if she was listening, then he told her:

"I think the only way to get anywhere with this would be to sue your mom, but there's no way that either of us could afford that, not for a while. That's the only way to fix this completely, to revoke the current edition and take back your own. But, there's something else we can do."

Fern sighed, "As long as it doesn't involve legal stuff, I'm all for it. You're right. I can't afford to sue my mom or anyone. I barely have two hundred dollars in my bank account."

"But you have internet access and the ability to write," Alex smirked. "You need to wait a few weeks until people get their copies. Then you need to start posting online reviews on Facebook and other very public sources. Tell them exactly what you think, that it was pieced together after the author's submission into an unreadable mess. You may even need to create fake accounts to share the material, but that should get the word out all through Elwood City. You can even post flyers in the library after a while telling people not to read the book because of how it seems."

Fern smirked, "That's so devious but I love it. People always look to online reviews now for anything, even a quick bite to eat during lunch. The people of Elwood City will see the reviews and listen, and she may even get called out for it. Oh, Alex, this is the perfect plan."

Alex shrugged, "I try, sometimes."

Sue Ellen had never felt happier. Now that she was back on campus, back to her old life, she felt more at home than she ever had. She quickly adjusted back to her American classes and scheduling, and she was instantly pleased with how the classes were conducted. She could handle this, and though she would still have to work to get her assignments completed, she felt like she at least had a chance to succeed, something she hadn't felt at any point during her French studies.

A week passed and Sue Ellen remained in close contact with Pierre via Skype. He helped her furnish her apartment and Sue Ellen's food budget was firmly in place. Now the only problem was to keep her mother satisfied. She still had a copy of Sue Ellen's schedule from her French classes, so her daily chats with Pierre helped her know exactly what to tell her mother, who had called almost daily since Sue Ellen's return to the U.S. Sue Ellen told Pierre about her sudden influx of calls, and she noticed him tense up at this announcement.

Sue Ellen shifted in her seat, "Why did you tense like that? Do you think I've been busted?"

"No, no, but it's a possibility," Pierre said, shifting from damage control to brutal honesty in the same breath. Pierre sighed, "Your father travels often, and if he uses the same airport that you used to return home, your mother may've spotted you. Your hair is rather original. I doubt it's very common where you live."

"You're right. My mom would always find my hair in the crowd at events," Sue Ellen muttered, shaking her head, "Do you really think she already busted me and she's just playing me to catch me again?"

Pierre shrugged, "I am unsure, really I am, but you said this was sudden. There are a multitude of options. She could be missing you for some personal reason, or she may've had a dream of you and wants to bring you closer. Maybe she just misses you or she's ill or any number of options. But you need to consider that she already knows."

"You're not making me feel very well about this, Pierre. I hate lying to my mother, but I couldn't stay in France. It just wasn't for me, so I had to come back. I didn't want to break her heart, and I just…I can't tell her now, even if she might already know," Sue Ellen whispered.

"I know, and I'm sorry I brought it up. That was just the first thought that came to mind, and I see I've upset you. I apologize," he said, shifting, "I called you for another reason today. I have something that I would like you to try to do for me."

Sue Ellen was curious, so when Pierre said he wanted her to write a report for him, probably a report for the class she just left, Sue Ellen was instantly concerned. Was he only paying her way through American college so she could do favors for him?

Pierre smiled, "I'm only asking because I need your opinion. I've already completed and turned in the assignment. You left before it came about, and I want to know where you stand through your writing."

Sue Ellen shook her head, "I'm not writing a report to tell you my opinion on something. What do you need to know?" she asked.

Before Pierre could answer, his image froze. A few seconds later the connection ended, and neither of them tried to reconnect. Sue Ellen didn't know why Pierre didn't try, but she didn't try because of her concern. She was still thoroughly confused as to why a guy like him would help a girl like her financially without anything in return. If he was going to start asking for reports and using his money over her, then Sue Ellen had a problem.

She had already come up with a solution. She wanted to work while she was in graduate school. That was the normal thing to do, and one of her best friends from before had told her about an available position in the university's archives building. Sue Ellen had already put in an application, and if she got the job, she would make enough to pay most of her bills. She would keep Pierre's money, if it kept coming, just to give her a better cushion in case of hard times.

But if he planned to use his money to blackmail her, it wouldn't work. Sue Ellen wouldn't be played. This was her life now, and she intended to live it however she wanted.

Jenna started her training much to her mother's dismay. The worst part was how much Jenna enjoyed the work. She took to it quickly, and the manager was eager to have her on their team. The problem was Jenna's pregnancy, and while she had an overinflated beach ball on her stomach, she would be too big and too pained to actually do the work.

After a week of training, the manager sent her home, leaving Jenna bored. She couldn't move much during the day because of how much her ankles had swelled, so she took to the computer to have something to do. She browsed celebrity gossip sites, motherhood blogs, and shopping sites for something to do, but soon she was on social media sites, including her old Facebook page.

To her dismay, Frank had been messaging her constantly since she left, begging for her to come back with the baby so they could be a family. He knew where she was now because of her mother, and he wanted to bring her back to him.

Jenna knew she should resist. She knew she should block him and ignore his messages, but her heart ached for him. He seemed genuine, and his concerned messages about her health and the baby's made her think that maybe he had changed somehow. Maybe her escape awoke something within him that changed him and made him a better person.

This theory guided her fingers. She responded to a message, then another and another. Soon they were having full-blown conversations just like they did while they dated, and Jenna wondered if she'd made a mistake in leaving Frank in the first place. What if it was all just a misunderstanding? What if he never really was that angry?

After a day of chatting, Frank sent her pictures of a small rental home in Elwood City just a few blocks away. He had moved there when Jenna left so they could have a safer home for the baby. Jenna was pleased, and she wanted to go see the home for herself. Her mother would be working the next day, which would keep her out of the home. Frank could pick her up and take her to see the house, but only for a visit. Jenna needed more time to decide before she fully moved back in with him.

Frank agreed to the terms. He would arrive the next morning around ten, then they would visit the house and go out to lunch afterwards. Jenna agreed to the schedule and returned to her bed for a nap. She was pleased with how things were going, and not one part of her thought this was a mistake.

Muffy arrived at the home and took the short walk to the front door. It opened in front of her, and a smiling middle-aged man greeted her with a light hug. A ping-pong paddle was already in his back pocket, and he led the well-dressed Muffy to a small game room located in the basement of the house.

"Have you played before?" he asked her. Muffy nodded, telling him she played some with friends while she was growing up. The man smiled, "Well, here we go."

He served the ball like a pro, and Muffy barely made it to volley it back to him. He rocketed the ball back in record time, and Muffy could only watch as the ball flew back behind her. She retrieved it and the man laughed:

"You play a lot like my wife. This is going to be a fun night."

Muffy didn't see exactly how fun it could be at first. She kept having to retrieve balls that he had rocketed towards her. She was honestly scared of the ball at first, but after a few minutes of trepidation, Muffy finally got into the game. Their volleys grew longer, and soon they were both having the time of their lives, shooting the ball back and forth like Olympic pros.

After three hours, he wanted to have a glass of wine, so the two retired to the kitchen for their beverage. Muffy had only recently taken to wine, but she was able to hold her own as they sipped glasses of red wine.

"So, how long have you been doing this?" he asked before a sip.

Muffy smiled, "You're my first, actually."

"Hmm, really? Wow, they usually send me girls that have been around for a while. I guess I'm good for the new girls too," he chuckled. "I always ask this question, but it's okay if you don't want to answer. How did you get into this?"

"I came across a friend on a bad day. I needed a place to stay and I told her about my dead-end job. We graduated high school together and grew up together, yet she's graduating law school soon and getting her degree with no debt. I won't be as lucky despite my upbringing, so she mentioned this. I thought it would be a great way to gain my independence from my parents," Muffy explained.

The man shifted, "Your parents? Instead of helping you, they've done what exactly?"

"They pampered me throughout my childhood, then in college, they cut me off completely. I couldn't get a job once I graduated, so they offered to hire me. Now I do grunt work for minimum wage, which isn't enough to get you much of anything in Metropolis. I've been staying in their friends' empty apartments for a while, but I couldn't keep doing that," Muffy said, shaking her head. "I can't keep obeying their every whim."

The man nodded, "Well, this job will give you that freedom. I don't know what other guys want, but I just want a woman to spend time with me who's like my wife. She goes off on business trips or college visits with the kids, and that leaves me here for days by myself. I just want someone to spend time with, and you've done that for me. I'll tell the agency how well you've done here, and I'd love to have you back again."

"I feel the same. You've taught me to have fun again. I haven't been having much fun lately, not for years actually," Muffy smiled. "I'm glad that seems to be changing."

"I feel the same way," he nodded, draining his glass. "Alright, I think I'm done for the night. You can wait outside on the bench by the gate. The stars are beautiful from there."

Muffy was surprised, namely because she had never been able to see the stars anywhere except vacation retreats to the country. She stepped outside after making her call to the agency, and after taking her seat, she looked up. As he told her, the stars were beautiful, and Muffy felt herself smile.

Once back at Maria's apartment, she asked how the meeting had gone. After hearing how nice it was, Maria asked if Muffy would continue the work. She agreed, but she had one reservation: Would she be able to escort her father's friends and clients? That was a question she knew she'd have to answer eventually, and she hoped Anastasia would be understanding. She felt in her heart that she would be, but Muffy knew to be cautious. She'd already been burned multiple times before, and she half-expected that to happen again.

Ladonna was surprised at how well her family treated her circumstances. Within hours of her conversation with Bud, all of her siblings knew about their mother's situation, and they agreed that they should keep their distance if their mother was that bad off. Six hours after that, Bud left to go to the airport in New Orleans, and the following morning, Ladonna's father asked her to meet him downtown. She agreed, and after making sure the nurses had her mother taken care of, she drove to the designated meeting place. It was an office building with numerous suites, so she wasn't sure what her father was planning, but she knew this had something to do with financing her mother's care.

Her father hugged her then led her into an office with a suited man running the numbers on a computer. The two sat in front of him, their voices silent despite the questions raging inside Ladonna's mind. She wanted to know what this was all about. No, she needed to know what this was all about.

"Alright, I've got it now. Your ex-wife had several policies. Two were for life insurance, but one was a special account just like you brought up," the suited man said, looking up with a smile. "Your mother knew that Alzheimer's and other long-term debilitating illnesses ran in her family. She created a special care fund in case it ever happened to her, and the fund can be accessed today to begin paying for her care, pending paperwork from the company responsible. Which company?" he asked.

"Magnolia Springs," Ladonna replied. "They're handling everything right now."

"Is she in the facility or receiving at-home treatment?" the man questioned. Ladonna responded appropriately and the man nodded, "I'll contact their money person and get everything sorted out. Judging by her numbers, she's got twenty years of care paid for, be it at home or in their facilities. She had everything taken care of, but I guess she progressed too quickly to tell you."

Ladonna nodded, "I had no idea."

Her father smiled to Ladonna, and once things were settled, they walked outside. A few blocks over was a small park, so they walked inside and found a bench to discuss the day's events in private, as well as everything else. Ladonna wanted her father to talk first so he could explain everything, which he agreed too. After sighing heavily, he began:

"Your mom told me years ago about the illnesses that ran in her family. Her great-uncle had Parkinson's, her grandmother and her sister Alzheimer's, and all of the strokes and heart attacks. She knew she would face tough decisions if any of those came to her, money decisions. She thought we'd be married forever, and we'd already had a few kids by then, so she started the fund. Eighty dollars a month, no questions, went into that account. And we argued about it almost every month when times got tough because I thought that money could go for something better, like food or clothes for all of you. Now I see why it was so important," he smiled.

"How come none of us ever found out?" Ladonna questioned.

Her father shrugged, "I dunno, sweetie. I don't think she wanted to worry y'all with your extended family's problems. She knew it was all about the statistics. She could end up living forever with no health problems—"

"Or she could get Alzheimer's at age forty-two and go downhill too fast to tell anyone anything," Ladonna interrupted, sighing heavily, "I kinda wish I would'a told y'all sooner now."

"Don't worry about it now," her father smiled, patting her knee, "You did what you thought was best, and you were right that your mother didn't exactly want her business broadcasted. And if it happened as quickly as you say, I doubt you had much of a choice. One day she was probably fine, then the next she wasn't. It's not your fault."

"But it could've been. When the nurses came, they told me they thought they'd have to call Adult Protective Services. They thought I'd abused her, and maybe I was. She'd wet herself and everything else. I could barely get her fed or cleaned or anything. Now they've got it. They fight for me, and I'm so grateful. I should've tried this sooner, so much sooner," Ladonna cried.

Her father shook his head, "You didn't know, and besides, what's done is done. Now you need to let others take control so you can focus on yourself. You're going to finish college, and you're going to live your life. Don't feel guilty about not being there for your mama. She won't know the difference anymore. You need to live your life and accept that."

Ladonna sighed heavily, "I don't know how well I can do that. I've been struggling for so long. It's hard to let someone else take everything I've considered a burden."

"Well, it happens. And I came down here to get this settled and to make sure you re-enrolled in college," her father said. He patted Ladonna's shoulder, "Come on, I'll follow you there," he said, standing up. Ladonna followed him towards a small lot in the center of town. As he wanted her to do, she drove the lead car over to the college. Classes wouldn't begin for a few weeks, but she could jump back in if her classes had room. They did, so she signed up.

After enrollment, her father went with her to financial aid. Ladonna owed money, so he paid using his card. Ladonna was too choked up to thank him, but he patted her shoulder. He knew she was grateful, but he also knew she was suffering. Handling her mother's problems had taken their toll, but he meant what he told her. This was her life now. She could still be her mother's advocate, but she couldn't be her caregiver anymore. It was time to take care of herself, and getting back in school was how she could do that. Ladonna agreed, and she returned home with a weight off her shoulders.

Bitzi spent hours chatting and texting with Richard. She'd rejected every possible date since meeting him, and she knew it was because she was hoping this would finally be the relationship she'd been looking for. She'd waited for years for something better, something more than a bar chat with drinks or a dinner with wine. She needed more than just a one-time thing. She needed Richard.

She didn't realize how much she needed him until Buster called again. He and Palladia wanted to have dinner with Bitzi, and Bitzi immediately wished she had someone by her side to make things more even, and to take her mind off the fact that her coworker was probably bedding her son. She wanted Richard to come, so she told him about the call. She wanted him to join her, but he couldn't make it.

"I'm three hours away, and I have an important appointment that day. I just can't make it. I'm sorry," he responded.

Bitzi had no choice but to face this dinner alone. Two days later, she met Buster and Palladia at a small Italian restaurant just outside of town. It was Buster's favorite because of their pasta bar, and he had finished two plates of two different types of pasta before Bitzi even arrived. For the first time, Buster had found someone happy to watch him eat. Palladia was still working on the small plate of linguine she'd retrieved, and her eyes were locked on her boyfriend.

Bitzi put down her things and waited for the waiter to get her drink order. Then she too got her plate of pasta and returned for what she felt would probably be the most awkward dinner of her life. Buster had asked her to meet his dates before, usually those six-monthers he was dying for her to meet. This was different. He'd just met Palladia, but most importantly, Bitzi knew Palladia, and she knew Palladia very well because of her work. But Bitzi couldn't help but think of how long they'd been together, or rather, how short they'd been together. This dinner was a milestone that Bitzi didn't expect. This dinner was a "Hey, meet my mom," not a "Hey, you two know each other so we all should meet."

Buster finished a large bite of pasta and looked up to his mother, "So, Palladia says you two work together. I didn't know you had any coworkers like her," he winked. Palladia laughed flirtatiously and grabbed his arm. Bitzi battled a wave of nausea that she managed to shake before nodding, a respectful but forced smile on her lips.

"I didn't know you had such a nice son, honestly," Palladia said, returning to her own pasta. "I mean, now that I know who he is, I've obviously seen the pictures of him on your desk. I guess because he looks so much like his father that I couldn't make the connection."

"Yeah, something like that," Buster nodded. "We had no idea until you and I talked on the phone, then you and her talked at lunch. Crazy, huh? It's just such a small world out there. Six degrees, you know?"

"I know," Bitzi nodded, "and it doesn't help things. I'm sorry, but this is just too awkward for me. Buster, you know you don't usually let your dates meet me until much later. What's going on?"

"We're just so in love," Buster smiled, "I mean, Palladia completes me. She's the first date I've ever had that doesn't mind me eating like a pig. She doesn't even like the dishes here, but she wanted to come here tonight for me. And she doesn't mind my apartment being a mess. I mean, she said we'd have to clean it together, and if we move in, I can only keep my man cave messy, but—"

"You've talked about moving in together already?" Bitzi interrupted.

Palladia shook her head, "No, well, yes, I guess we have. We've talked about becoming engaged already. Neither of us have ever felt so right about something before, and we're both just ready to make it official."

"You want to get engaged? Already?" Bitzi asked with a skeptical tone. She shifted in her seat, "Buster, you once dated a girl for two years that pressured you the entire time about marriage, and you went along with her for years. What's different about her? Why are you so eager this time?"

"Mom, we both know Karen was crazy and I only kept her around for the money. That was before I had a decent job," Buster said to Palladia before turning back to Bitzi, "What's different this time is that I actually love her. This isn't some 'Oh, I picked up this chick in a bar and tried to make it work' kind of thing. No, I really care about Palladia and she really cares about me. What more can you ask for?"

"Some more time, for one. Marriage is a big deal, and it's hard to take it back if you decide things don't work. I can't believe I'm saying this, but move in together first, then see how things go. A few years from now, get married or whatever if things still feel this way. But don't rush things. That happened with your father, and look what happened with us," Bitzi said in a low voice.

"But you two just mutually broke up," Buster argued.

Bitzi shook her head, "We worked very hard to keep you from knowing. You need to accept that and drop it, okay? Your father and I broke up for very defined reasons, reasons you shouldn't worry yourself with."

"But it's important to me," Buster pushed. "Look, you've always made it look so easy. What was so bad that you couldn't fight anymore?"

"The women, Buster. The parades of women coming through his life, literally," she said with an eye roll. Bitzi sighed, "He slept with more women behind my back than I thought we had in this town. I wouldn't be surprised if he had kids with half of them with how loose he was, and his career just helped him along. He could have a woman on every continent or every country, and I wouldn't have found out if they hadn't found each other before finding out about me."

"Wow, Dad was a player? But he's always single now. I thought it was because he loved you and couldn't live without you," Buster whispered.

Bitzi shook her head, "No, he could live without me. I don't know why he's supposedly single all the time now, but it's not my problem. I've pushed him out of my life for good, and I intend to keep it that way."

"Well why haven't you found anyone?" Buster asked.

"She's tried," Palladia jumped in. "It's not easy to date ever, and once you get older, it gets even harder. All the good ones are taken, and all the bad ones are worse than you ever expected. Believe me, we've talked about this so many times over lunch. Your mother tries to find companionship, but it's not easy."

"Is that why you don't want us to get married? You're jealous?" Buster guessed, a dark tone in his voice.

Bitzi shook her head, "No, I'm being mature, which I thought you'd be doing," Bitzi said to Palladia, "Why don't you two use your heads? Either way, I think you should keep me out of your relationships, Buster. I had to figure things out on my own and you can too. You'll learn how bad things can get, how ugly your life can become. You'll figure it out all on your own, and I'm tired of this. It's not you, Palladia, it's the principle of this whole thing."

"I just wanted you to be a part of my life," Buster said, noticing his mother was leaving. He thought she was leaving for good, but her response countered his theory:

"I don't mind being a part of your life, just not this part. Call me for lunch with you any time, but your relationships? I don't want to hear about them anymore," Bitzi said, grabbing her purse and leaving the restaurant.

As she sat in the parking lot gathering herself, Bitzi's phone buzzed. Richard wanted to know how the date went, and instead of texting him back right then, Bitzi rushed home and got online. They chatted for hours with him doing most of the listening and her most of the typing. She had to get it out there, and thankfully for her, Richard was a good comfort. He apologized profusely for not being there to help, but Bitzi didn't hold it against him. He was three hours away, and she honestly needed to be there on her own. She just wished things hadn't gone the way they did for multiple reasons. Her son needed her, but now she'd forced herself out of that part of her life. Part of her didn't mind because she had her own love drama, but part of her did in case he did something stupid that she could've talked him out of.

She told everything to Richard, who finally told her to sip a glass of wine while taking a bubble bath. She agreed, and he told her to go to bed right after. They'd talk the next day, and Bitzi agreed. She did as he said, and despite the hectic night, she slept soundly.

Charles was surprised to find his wife at home, but when he discovered her job was history, he immediately grew concerned. Just like Belinda, he knew the house could only run smoothly with two paychecks, and he knew from what few times they had talked in recent months that her job interviews hadn't gone anywhere so far. She was nowhere near having another job lined up, and worst of all, she was fired from her only reference.

After having a family dinner, Belinda and Charles moved to the back porch for a private conversation. Mei-Lin was working on homework in the den, and with a solid patio door between them, there was no chance of her overhearing their conversation.

"So, you had a job interview today right after your shift?" Charles asked in an attempt to get his wife's timeline down.

"Yes, and they called me in the parking lot begging me to come in to help with a trauma. I'm not even a trauma nurse, but I couldn't take it anymore. I had to quit, but I'm sure if anyone calls them, they'll say I was insubordinate and left under their terms, not mine. I just hope the hospital I interviewed for today already called them. That was a good interview, but it won't end up that way if they talk to them," Belinda sighed.

Charles exhaled, "I know who I can call about this. Jerry's wife works in the medical field, and maybe she has someone who wouldn't mind being a fake source if you need it."

Belinda shook her head, "No, I have to do this my way. I know I need to work fast, and…if I can't find anything, I'll find something else in town. I know plenty of people from the restaurant business downtown. They'd be sure to help me."

"You'd rather change fields than fight for your dream job?" Charles asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, I'm not giving up on my dream job by switching fields. We need money to survive, Charles, and I don't mind being a waitress again. That's how I got through school in the first place, and I even kept both jobs for a while to help with the house, remember? I know this is the best way if I can't get what I need, and you know it too."

"I just want you to be happy. Are you really going to be happy in a waitressing job?" Charles asked.

Belinda smiled, "If it means spending more time with my family and having the money to support them, then yes, I'll be very happy."

The two held hands and enjoyed the silence of the night, but both of them were quite worried about the future. They had to keep things together, both for themselves and for their daughter. And most of all, neither of them wanted Binky to ever find out about their problems. He could learn about a new job in due time, but he could know nothing beforehand, no matter how sour things went.

Anita and Doria left their lunch date with plenty of plans for Anita's franchise. Things were moving forward with that aspect of her life even if her husband was still in jail. She'd secretly written the judge begging for remand, and while the letter was brought up in court during the bail hearing, James still had no idea the letter was from her. All he knew was that he was angry at the world and lost in his addiction, so Anita had to focus on herself.

After stopping by the shop to do payroll and check inventory, Anita returned home for an early dinner. While she ate a microwavable pasta meal, she got a call from Brain checking on his father. Anita told her son that his father had been remanded because he was a danger to society, a truth that Brain was unable to accept.

"Mom, how bad is his problem? Has he had other charges that I didn't know about?" Alan questioned. Anita assured him this was his father's first charge, but that wasn't enough for Alan to accept, "But he must've been drinking for a while. How bad are things at home?"

"Alan, you've left. Don't worry about what's going on here because it doesn't concern you. If you were to come home and let it concern you, I can assure you that we'd discuss everything. And you can help me with the business again. I'll need managers at my new locations. Doria Walters helped me find a property in Metropolis for a good price, and she's working with her designer to get promotional materials together. If you come home, you can be a part of this," Anita smiled.

Alan disagreed, "I can't come back to Elwood City, not yet."

"It's been years, Alan. What's going on that you can't come back here?" Anita pleaded.

Suddenly the line went dead, and Anita knew her son had hung up. She shook her head as she put her cellphone back on the table and picked up her fork again. She wasn't particularly hungry, but she knew she had to eat if she wanted to get anything done tonight. She scarfed down her meal and tossed her trash. She then moved to her home office, where she had an email from Doria's design contact, Alex.

Anita recognized the name immediately from Alan's school days, but the content inside the email was nothing that she expected. She thought it was an email discussing the details of the promotional materials, but what she found was a warning, a sinister warning that Doria might change things to meet her needs:

 _I recently discovered through another client that Doria Walters doesn't fear changing things to suit her needs. The other client was a writer, and as you're a business owner just looking for the usual banners, business cards, etc., I doubt she would change things for you. But as someone who wants more for my clients, I thought I must warn you. Please, if you notice anything that isn't what you asked for from me, please call her out, fight the changes. I can only do so much from my position. It's up to you to be the change._

Anita was instantly concerned. Who was Doria ripping off that her graphic design contact, a young man with only some experience, had to step forward and warn her about possible fraud? Anita had no clue who it could be, but she had other problems.

Anita's phone rang, and while she suspected it was Alan trying to finish their conversation, she found it was a call from Elwood City's detention center. Her husband was trying to call, but Anita ignored it. She had nothing to say to him. She wanted to talk to her son, not her husband. In fact, if Anita had it her way, she'd get rid of the husband and go straight to her son. He needed her, but she couldn't help him from here. And James was beyond help because of his issues.

But Anita had to stay put. Her business was growing and changing, so she had to focus on that instead. She was much closer to franchising, and she knew it would be a month or less before she had her second location. Within a year she hoped to have a third, but she meant what she told Alan. She always thought he'd stick around to help, even if it was just an observational role so he could focus on his own career. Now that he was working a dead end job in an urban slum, she wanted him back more than ever before. She had no control over him, however, so she remained with her business. She spent the night finalizing ideas, careful to save her own files for reference points. Alex's email scared her more than she would admit, and she began to wonder what kind of interference Doria had done.

Molly rested her head on her hand as she and Rattles finished a grant request over lunch. This was their third one of the morning and the food was an afterthought. If Molly had her way, they would've eaten something better than salty ramen noodles, which were upsetting her stomach with each new bite. She tried not to appear sick, but the sweat on her brow told Rattles that something was up.

"Hey, what's going on with you? Is something bothering you?" he asked.

"Yeah these noodles. My stomach just can't handle these things sometimes. Way too salty," she replied, pushing the bowl away. "But there is something else bothering me. James got home late the last two nights because of his new job. We haven't even talked about the weather, and I'm starting to worry that I might not get to tell him for a long time. He was supposed to have the weekend off, but he'll have to be at the school's library to get his assignments finished on time," Molly explained.

Rattles sighed, "I know it feels like you won't get to tell him, but you told me in the beginning that you didn't want to tell him anything until you knew everything yourself. Since your doctor hasn't called yet, I think you're making good time. Just wait, and if the opportunity comes before then, take it. I like the idea of waiting until after you know everything. I mean other than the nausea and the picky eating, he probably has no idea you're even sick."

"You're right. He doesn't know about anything, but I'm sure he's seen me hurl antacids down my throat after a meal or go to the bathroom. He asked me a few months ago if I had bulimia, but it wasn't even that bad then. I think that was food poisoning, not anything else," Molly said, exhaling slowly, "but who knows at this point. Maybe I've had cancer for years. Maybe I've always had it and it's just now showing up during the one time I don't need it."

"Life never goes as planned. My wife and I were going to wait to get married, but kids change your perspective. We needed to make things official to make it easier for all of us, so now we're a little family, a family you and James are definitely a part of," Rattles smiled, squeezing Molly's arm, "We're all here for you, even my parents. They've got a few more grants to fill out paperwork for that I can get you for tomorrow. What would you like me to bring over for lunch?"

"Low sodium noodle soups tend to do well, sometimes," Molly added, eying the bowl of salty noodles that she pushed away, "One of the things in my paperwork said I might not be able to eat during treatment. I'd have to go on a feeding tube and get food that way. That is just…it's scary and awful and I hate it already because I know they're right."

"With the treatments they have now days, that's a temporary problems. In a year, you'll be finished with your treatments and you'll be eating medium-well burgers with me in town," Rattles grinned.

Molly swallowed down a bout of nausea and shook her head, "Not for a long time."

A moment later the phone rang. Molly felt herself grow pale as she studied the number. Her doctor was calling back with her results, and it wasn't good. Her stomach lining was littered with cancerous cells, cells that had spread to form tumors around her stomach and esophagus. He wanted to do chemo and radiation, a process that would take eight weeks total. She'd start the following Monday with the chemo, then Tuesday with the radiation.

When he was done with his spiel, Molly asked the one question she didn't necessarily want the answer of, but she knew she would need it for her brother when she told him:

"Doctor, what's my prognosis?"

"I say you've got a sixty-forty chance. I think the cancer has been there for a little while now, maybe six months or so, but it doesn't seem to be growing at an alarming rate otherwise you would be in much worse shape. As long as the treatments take, you shouldn't have anything beyond the usual symptoms of nausea and vomiting. If the treatments don't take, well, that's when things get complicated. With your age and history, I think you will be able to have the treatments and face a good recovery. Don't worry about anything else until I tell you, alright?" the doctor asked.

Molly agreed, but as soon as the call ended, she was sobbing in Rattles' arms. He made it sound like she had a chance, but Molly was still terrified. She could die from this, a painful, terrible death that her baby brother would have to watch. Their mother had already died, luckily not in front of them, but losing her was enough pain. He didn't need anymore, yet here she was with cancer.

Rattles tried to soothe her, "It's okay. We'll get through this, I promise. And we'll get everything paid for so you don't have to worry about a thing. Just finish school, finish treatments, and get to work."

"I already have a job. Oh god, I have to tell them too," Molly choked, her body rocking with sobs.

Rattles smiled, "You'll have to tell some of them, but you don't have to tell everyone. You only have to tell who you want to tell and no one else."

Molly nodded. She knew she could probably keep her diagnosis a secret, at least until the chemo caused her to lose her hair. Then she'd need a wig, an excuse, or honesty. She preferred the wig, but she wasn't there yet. Now she was coping with the diagnosis, and she knew it was going to be a long few days.

Prunella couldn't help but look at job listings. Now that she had decided her job was too much, she needed an escape, and there was plenty available to her. There was an advertising firm just blocks from her house that needed an office worker. She wasn't sure what their tasks would be, but she debated on calling anyway. It wouldn't hurt to interview for the position or at least inquire about it. Asking questions wasn't a full-on commitment.

As she looked at other local listings, she realized dozens of local businesses needed help, and many of them focused on things Prunella liked or felt passionate about. She looked through the listings and immediately felt uplifted. She had a way out. She just had to reach out and grab it.

So she submitted her résumé to the advertising firm near her house and waited for a call back. She was still focused on her current job—she sent in the attached document in an email from her desk at work in between double checking designs and sending out a contract edit to a client. As soon as she finished with her desk work, she was back up in the office, making her rounds to ensure everything was running as smoothly as possible.

Now that Rubella was in treatment and out of her hair, Prunella could easily multitask during her daily life without feeling distracted. She knew Dr. Mano had everything covered, and Rubella's diagnosis meant there were lines of treatment to try. As long as she was in the hospital and not roaming the world, Prunella didn't have to worry about whether or not the treatment was working. That was someone else's problem, not hers, and it felt good to feel that level of freedom.

After a quick lunch a local deli, Prunella returned to the office and worked with a vigor she forgot she had. Deciding to change jobs lightened her mind, helping her sleep and reducing her hallucinations. She felt fully sane, fully available to the world, and she loved the invigorating surge through her. Her coworkers thought she was acting normally, and that's exactly what Prunella wanted. Now that a few days had passed since her very public hallucination incident, she was glad that no one could remember it, and she was even more grateful that none of them were watching her closely, studying her for another incident.

When her day was done, Prunella returned home and relaxed with takeout Chinese food and a good magazine that she'd been meaning to read. It was celebrity gossip, something Prunella cared very little about, but it was an escape from her current reality. She appreciated every moment, and when she was done with everything, she slipped into bed for a relaxing night of uninterrupted sleep.

Marina could feel the rift between her and Anthony even if she couldn't see his scowls. Others started to notice, and during breaks, Marina eagerly told everyone about their split over her choice to fight for the school's survival. When word spread that she had a plan to save the place, people approached her wanting details, but Marina couldn't say much. She was still waiting on her meeting with Mary Simmons, who was coming that following weekend.

When her week was over, Marina dutifully checked her personal evening. A little after eleven on Saturday morning, Mary let her know she was in the area. Within the hour, Mary was at her house, and after standard greetings, Marina put on a kettle for tea and sat with Mary at the dining room table.

"Alright, I've been looking through available grants here in Massachusetts, and there are actually some available from some of the groups that give to Elwood City University and Community College. I've printed out their standards and started on the work, but I've also looked into something bigger," Mary smiled, barely containing her excitement.

Marina begged that she continue so she did, "I've been looking into some national grants because they tend to give more money for longer amounts of time, especially for education. While most prefer we seek local solace, I've found a federal grant specializing in education for the blind or visually impaired."

"A special grant especially for us?" Marina asked.

"Yes, and this is fairly common. Massachusetts has their own groups, hence how I found the ones Elwood City University used because they recently expanded their resources for disabled students of all types, not just the blind. Some states have more or less, but honestly, this state is right in the middle. I don't know why the school's executives haven't tried anything before this—"

"Wait, they haven't?" Marina interrupted.

Mary exhaled, "I thought you'd react like that, so I did some last-minute research on the plane. The leaders of your school don't seem fully involved. The school was started by their previous generation, a father for one and some uncles for the others. They were probably thrown into the business, and they've let it falter because the profit isn't that good."

"That's terrible," Marina scowled. She instantly felt sick. If that was true, she was probably better off working for a guy like Anthony's father, who was starting to sound a lot better than these guys. Marina looked up, "Has anyone tried to buy them out recently?"

"Yes and no," Mary hesitated, pulling her tablet out of her purse. The kettle whistled behind them, so while Mary looked, Marina put together their mugs of tea. Mary found what she was looking for, "Hmm, interesting. It seems one of the teachers has a rich parent in the education business. He tried to buy them out at the start of the school year, but the school's Board of Directors refused the offer."

"Anthony?" Marina asked.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"He offered me a job with his father, but I worried they would be…well, less than accepting. I mean, I know it's going to be hard for me to find something else in my condition around here. This is the only school for the blind for miles and miles, and I'd love to stay close to home. Maybe he was right about his father having genuine intentions. Maybe I burned my bridges with him for no good reason," Marina whispered, sinking into her chair with a hot mug of tea between her hands.

"Well, maybe you should've looked them up online. According to this, Anthony's father is missing his right eye and his left is quickly succumbing to the same degenerative disease. He's a rich man who gets it, not that you'll be needing his offer anyway," Mary grinned. "There's a stipulation with several of these grants that failing schools get taken over for a while. If they can get rid of the current guys in power, you won't have to worry about this happening again."

"You're right. They won't have to run the school in the ground because they won't be around to make the decisions," Marina murmured. She could hear what Mary was saying and react to it, but her mind was still on Anthony and how she'd treated him.

Mary sighed, "Well, I'll be in town for three weeks, and that should be all I need. I work quickly, and these grants should go through just as quickly. All of their deadlines come at the end of the school year at various points in May, so everything should go fast. I'll keep you informed, but I'd like you to help spread the word. Let people know what we're up to and keep them together. We'll need the teachers working together if we're ever going to make this work."

"I can do that," Marina nodded, stirring her tea. She was deep in thought, something Mary noticed. She decided to head back to her hotel for the time being, but she'd remain in touch, not just for the work but to make sure that Marina was really okay.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jane was at a loss, a feeling she hated. School would be over in a week and she still had no idea what to do about Kate's surgery and her father's pill addiction. DW would be graduating, but her depression and dark chats made Jane wish she'd stick around for the summer so she could watch her.

But after a breakfast conversation, it was clear that DW wasn't going to stick around. She wanted to go to college elsewhere, and she'd been accepted a few days prior without Jane's knowledge. The college and the acceptance letter were legit, and just before flying out the door, DW showed her mother the school's website. Their dorms would start accepting fall students June the first, and DW wanted to leave then so she could settle in.

Jane was horrified. That gave her a week and a half with her daughter after graduation, which wasn't long enough to figure out what was wrong with her. Part of her said that DW was fine and that she was just worried about the changes going on in her life, but Jane couldn't help but worry that this was a warning sign for sinister things to come.

As she tried to get some work done for her clients that morning, Jane couldn't shake that nagging feeling, so she went upstairs and moved into DW's room. Like before, the computer came to life without a password, and DW's pages were left up like before. Today the chat was closed, and everything seemed a little better than before. Jane jotted down on the back of her hand with a pen what page she was on, then she clicked through the tabs.

On the last tab to the right, Jane found another chat site. This one had people she'd heard of on it, students from Elwood City, though not all of them from high school. Slink had graduated the year after Arthur from the community college's GED program, yet here he was talking to her daughter.

Jane had heard plenty about him. He'd been expelled for drugs and alcohol possession on campus, and his fast pace through the area's top GED program was only a part of his probation sentence and nothing more. Otherwise he'd still be a high school dropout, a lowlife in a middle-class town. Now he was living that dream. Jane looked him up in a new tab about found out through Facebook that he was unemployed living with another guy just like him.

Jane was disgusted, so she went back to see what they were talking about. DW seemed to be friends with the others in the group chat, but Slink wasn't a friend. She wanted nothing to do with him, and neither did anyone else. He left the chat early with a smile, promising to be back, and Jane wondered if he was possibly bullying DW or someone else in the group.

Feeling discouraged, she moved on to the others in the group. On Facebook they seemed like decent enough people. One guy was going through hard times, the divorce of his parents and some family death business. Jane felt sorry for him, and she saw that DW did too. She sent him sympathetic messages every day on his wall, and Jane felt slightly uplifted. Maybe she was looking up information for him. Maybe he was the depressed one and she was just trying to help.

Another tab seemed to confirm this. She'd found a PDF download of a self-help book based around dealing with depression, and Jane saw that the ladybug flashdrive she usually kept on her keyboard was gone. That was for her personal projects, Jane remembered, because she'd left it at Thora's house and demanded Jane drive to get it back. DW must've downloaded the file, put it there, and taken it to school to give to her down-in-the-dumps friend.

Her snooping helped relieve her inner pain for her daughter, but that was just one problem. Something crashed downstairs, and when Jane got there, she found an empty Advil bottle on the counter, a broken glass on the floor, and David desperately trying to get the mess cleaned up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jane spat.

"I just needed something to get me through the day. The pain was just too much," he pleaded.

Jane eyed the bottle. It was mostly full, and now that it was empty, Jane could put together the pieces. She had to make it seem like something else, so she grabbed her keys and purse slowly while explaining herself:

"Well honey, if you're in that kind of pain, maybe we should go to the ER. Come on, I'll tell them how much you need it. I know they'll listen to me."

David agreed, and after getting the glass shards into the trash, he followed her to the car. He encouraged Jane's fast driving, and soon they were at Elwood City General Hospital's ER. Jane went in with David by her side, but Jane sent him to the waiting area.

"May I help you, Ma'am?" the lady asked.

"My husband just took a whole bottle of Advil. He has a pill addiction and thought it would help. I'm afraid he's going to overdose so I brought him here," Jane said in a hushed voice.

Everything moved quickly after that. David was taken back, and Jane knew what would happen. His stomach would be pumped, and after recovering, he'd be sent home without the pills Jane promised him. He'd be angry, irate even, and Jane couldn't take it. She needed time to think, so while she waited in the ER's waiting area, she called Thora and got her opinion.

Together they decided to hatch a plan to keep him there. Jane put on her best upset face and reapproached the desk. The woman recognized her immediately and asked what was the matter. Jane told them she was afraid her husband was suicidal. Yes, he wanted pills, but he knew that taking a bottle of Advil would be more likely to kill him than ease the pain. She was afraid he'd be suicidal if he came home, and the desk clerk passed the word.

An hour later, a doctor emerged and had Jane sign the paperwork. David would be put under a seventy-two hour suicide watch in the hospital's mental ward once he was cleared by the ER. Jane would go home alone, and she'd need to make up a story, but at least this was a first step in doing something about her husband.

Francine started her journal, and when she went to lunch with the girls again, she told them to do the same. They all loved the idea, but there was growing concern that they would all be better off finding new jobs than fighting for equality and fair treatment in the one they had. Surprisingly Samantha wasn't onboard with this theory despite her initial concerns about going after a corporation like this one. She liked the journaling and thought it would help during a legal battle. It was a handful of others that though a legal battle wasn't worth the effort. They'd be better off finding more jobs and pretending the horrors of this one never even happened.

Francine had done her own research into other jobs after her conversation with Samantha, and while it would be difficult to break into another company's ranks, it wasn't an impossible task, and there were plenty of positions open nearby. It was tempting to switch jobs, Francine knew, but she'd rather finish her crusade here. She'd rather bring Thornton and the others down that tackle new problems, some of which could be worse than being grabbed at work.

After realizing many of her female coworkers were willing to fight the good fight, Francine thought about other ways to get evidence on Thornton. Journaling was still putting their words to paper, but they needed something else if they wanted to prevent a he-said, she-said court battle in the future, a battle they would probably lose. They needed photographic evidence, so Francine went home and looked into secret cameras. She sent a message to Catherine, and together from their respective computers, they found several items with cameras hidden inside.

"I think you should use the flower pot and bring that aloe plant to your office like Mom always wanted," Catherine suggested. Francine liked the idea, so she put in the order. She then made a list of the other items. The next afternoon at lunch, she passed the list around the table.

"I think if we have video and sound evidence, it will make our case much easier to fight," Francine said. "I've ordered a flower pot for my office. I think you all should try something else, maybe the picture frame or something else."

"I like the pencil container thing," Samantha laughed, pointing to Francine's entry. Francine blushed with embarrassment, but it worked. Samantha and another woman agreed to order those, and three others went with photo frames. One was a newlywed, so it was the perfect cover for her.

With everything settled, the women felt empowered, but Francine was still cautious. She looked at those job listings again when she got home, and she wondered if she should find something else just in case. She decided to hold off, but she did look up things about sexual harassment. One thing stuck out to her—maybe Thornton didn't know that he was making them uncomfortable because no one had said anything. They needed to speak up, to tell him no, otherwise even video evidence wouldn't help them.

Francine took a deep breath. It would take a lot of strength to speak in that moment at all, let alone to tell the grabber to quit grabbing. She would have to do it to get anything done, as would the other women. If they wanted to win, they had to fight the entire fight, not just part of it.

Copies of Fern's overly edited books came in the next morning, and soon Fern and her mother were delivering them to people all over town. Fern kept Alex in the loop via texts, and soon both were reading the edited book so they could be specific in their reviews. This task only made Fern angrier, but it did give her plenty of ammo. In Doria's attempt to fix things the way she wanted, she left paragraphs behind or made strange formatting errors. The evidence made it much easier for Fern to write her reviews, even if it was hard to read.

After a week, Fern started creating accounts and getting her identities together. She bought a notebook after a shift at the Greasy Burger to keep everything together. She made a chart within the pages with the identities and the review sites she wanted to use, and she showed the chart to Alex during a lunchtime meeting.

Their plan was in place, and soon Fern was sitting down to write her first review. It was difficult at first, but soon the words flowed like a waterfall. Her one-star review was five hundred harsh words long, all of them pointed at the editor. Fern emailed the link to Alex, who liked it under his own account.

He responded within minutes to tell her what she'd done, then he asked a question that Doria hadn't bothered to ask: Was Fern still working on her books?

The short answer was "no," namely because she'd been too busy working with her mother on the published one. The response she got was expected. Alex wanted her to be successful, and being successful as a writer meant writing constantly to get something good enough to present to the world. He was genuinely concerned that she was losing her mojo because of her mother's ill deeds, and she needed to keep everything together if she wanted to be successful in the future.

So that night, she sat down to write and found herself in a jam. She'd stopped mid-chapter before and lost her place in her outline. Fern felt stuck and frustrated, and she quickly found herself in tears, not because of the frustration but because of the anger. Her mother was ruining her, and Fern couldn't tell if this was something intentional or unintentional. Why would her mother ruin her when her own name was plastered on the cover? Fern couldn't understand it, not one aspect of it.

Fern checked the time and realized it was getting late. She changed into her pajamas and sank into bed, then her phone buzzed. Alex wanted to know her progress, and she was honest with him. She was stuck and upset, and she knew it was her mother's fault.

'Don't let her get to you,' he replied. 'I'm keeping an eye on her. We won't let it happen again.'

'Has she done anything else?' Fern asked.

'IDK,' Alex replied, quickly adding, 'but I warned Mrs. Powers. I didn't drop your name. I just told her to be careful.'

The reference clicked with Fern instantly. Mrs. Powers had wanted to franchise for years, and Doria would've been the woman to help. But if her mother interfered, she could hurt the business before it even gets a chance to begin. Fern asked Alex to keep her informed, but she needed to sleep tonight. Alex agreed, and he begged her to talk to him if she needed anything. She thanked him, but tonight wasn't the night. She'd try again tomorrow and the next night, and hopefully she would get results.

Sue Ellen was having lunch in the student center while looking over an assignment. She had to read about a hundred pages before the next class meeting, which was eight the next morning. Get a jump on the assignment now would save her from pulling an all-nighter to get the material in, so she was eager to eat in silence.

But halfway through reading a word, she noticed a shadow descend over her as a person sat across from her. Sue Ellen looked up and was stunned to see George Lundgren, a heavy backpack in his left hand as he lowered it to the floor. His right hand had the same cold-cuts sandwich she'd picked up from the coffee shop.

"Wow, I did not think I'd be seeing you, like, ever," George grinned. He tapped his smartphone, "I used to read your blog daily, when you updated it. Are you done with France now?"

"Well…," Sue Ellen stammered, trying to decide what to say. She finally sighed and went with the truth, "Yes, but no one can know. That was Mom's dream, but I just couldn't keep doing it, so I came here in secret. I wiped out my savings flying back and getting an apartment close to school. I'm going to finish my Master's degree here whether it's what Mom wants or not, but I'd rather tell her later."

"I get it, but I'm worried about you if you wiped out your savings. School is expensive, and you're living on your own too? Wow, that's so much money. Where are you going to work?" George asked.

"Well, a friend of mine works here in the archives library, so I'm thinking of getting a position there. But things have been taken care of so far. One of my French classmates talked to me, and when he found out what I was doing, he offered to pay my expenses. It was really nice of him, but I just…I don't know why he'd do something like that for me without anything in return. I just don't get it. I mean, he did ask me to write a paper the last time we talked, but I couldn't tell if he legitimately wanted my opinion or if he wanted me to do an assignment for him."

George shifted, "Wow, that is surprising. I mean, if he really is rich and that's how he wants to spend his money, cool and good for you. But I'd be skeptical too. And he wanted you to write a paper for him?"

Sue Ellen shrugged, "I don't know what he wanted, but he should know that's why I wanted to leave France in the first place. I couldn't do the work because they wanted so much from me, and I never could do it right. Before I dropped I was going to fail a class or two anyway. Coming back here was just a relief, and I'm doing okay with the workload. I mean, I have a lot of reading to do, but otherwise—"

"Oh, I hope I'm not bothering you. I just saw you and wanted to check in, and to make sure it was you," George smiled. He started gathering his things, "I've got work to do myself, so I'll get going now. But…I'll keep your secret, but I think you should just tell your mom the truth. It sounds like France was just too much for you to handle and you were happier here all along. She'll probably understand that, but she won't like all this sneaking around. My mom is like that, at least. You should've seen her face when she found out about my secret girlfriend," George grinned. Sue Ellen smiled too. She remembered the Lundgren's being protective of their only son, so she didn't blame him for keeping his girlfriend a secret.

Before George got too far away, Sue Ellen called him back and got his contact information. She needed more friends in the States, and he was a good start. Besides, his advice was on point. She needed to figure out Pierre's true motives whether he was paying her expenses or not. But most importantly, she needed to figure out how to tell her mother the truth. He was right—sneaking around wasn't doing either of them any good. Her mother would probably understand anyway.

But as she kept reading and her mind began to wonder, she went back to Pierre's theory that her mother already knew. Sue Ellen doubted that from the beginning but she had to worry about it during their conversation. The evidence was there—Sue Ellen was noticeable from a distance, her mother could've been at the airport, and her sudden questions about her French courses was an unexplainable surprise. But Sue Ellen doubted her mother would simply question her about France to see where Sue Ellen would slip up. She was questioning her for a reason, and that was a reason she did need to ask her about. But most of all, she needed to figure out how to broach the subject with her mother. And she needed to do it soon before more damage could be done.

Jenna sipped a soda and looked Frank over. He seemed genuine, and after looking at the house, which was big enough for a nursery and much cleaner than the first house, Jenna was prepared to accept his invitation to move back in. Everything before must've been a misunderstanding, and as they finished their lunch, Jenna prepared herself for the conversation.

"So, what did you think of the house?" Frank asked.

Jenna smiled, "I love it. I mean, it's just so much better than the first one, and once the baby is born, there will be plenty of room. It's close to my job too."

"Job?" Frank questioned. Jenna told him about her job and its training, as well as how she and her manager planned to tackle things because of Jenna's pregnancy. Frank grinned, "Yeah, we'll see if you keep it. I mean, who's going to take care of the baby? Your mom can't do it because she'll have a job of her own, and I'm not doing it. That's your job."

"We'll figure it out, but we'd need the extra money if we're going to raise this baby. It'll need diapers and wipes, but maybe I can talk Mom into giving me the furniture. She's got a nursery ready at the house, so she might—"

"Don't count on it. Look, I don't know what dream world you live in, but our baby won't need all of those fancy things. I slept in a broken drawer when I was a baby and I turned out just fine," Frank chuckled, shaking his head, "And my mom was there with me the entire time. Money was tight but hey, things worked out."

Jenna shifted. This sounded more like the old Frank, and he was making her uncomfortable. She looked out the car window and realized they weren't heading back to where she'd left her car. No, they were headed back to the house.

"Frank, I have to take my car back home or Mom will be pissed," Jenna said firmly.

Frank shrugged, "Not my problem. Call and leave her a message. You said you liked the house so that's where we're going."

"Frank, I'll go back with you. Just let me get the car back to their house. I don't have to go in, but I do need to leave it in the garage. Just turn around," Jenna demanded. He argued with her, but she remained insistent. Finally he did a dangerous u-turn in the middle of the road and floored it back to the parking lot.

As Jenna drove back home in her own car, she knew this was her chance to make a decision. Part of her said that Frank was bad news, but her maternal side wanted to give him a chance to make things right within their little family. It was a nice house, and she knew she could convince him to let her go to work.

She eyed him in her rearview mirror. He was following too close for comfort no matter what speed she ended up going, and Jenna felt her pulse race. He was a dangerous guy, a very dangerous guy. She knew she shouldn't have contacted him or gone to lunch with him. She'd opened Pandora's Box and let out a monster, and she knew that monster had a hold on her.

After parking her car in the garage, she left the keys and the insurance card on her father's workbench. Then she got into Frank's passenger side and held on for dear life as he floored it back to their humble abode. Throughout the dangerous trip, Jenna thought about what she would have to do. She was stuck with him now. She could feel his dark grasp over her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to escape.

But as her baby kicked inside her, Jenna knew it could get out. She just had to have the strength to set them free.

Muffy spent her day being the coffee girl for a day-long meeting. When she returned to Maria's condo, she found her painting her toenails bright red in preparation for her night's date. They had discussed it over breakfast. There was a fancy rooftop pool party in downtown Metropolis and Maria was going with an astute businessman who liked to cut loose whenever he was in town. Muffy had overheard his name and realized this was one of her father's contacts, so she was wary about going.

But when Anastasia called and wondered if she'd be willing to accompany another businessman with ties to the Crosswire client base, Muffy had changed her mind. Her day was just as awful as the rest, and she decided to leave her makeup as-is. She changed into a sleek gown that she normally wore to clubs and went with Maria to the company limo. The men were picked up along the way, and soon they were mingling on a rooftop as music pounded around them.

Muffy's date was at the meeting earlier that day, and once alone, he decided to start asking her questions:

"So, how long have you been doing this?" he asked.

"Not long," Muffy replied. "It wasn't something I even considered, then I met Maria and she changed my perspective."

"I take your father doesn't know?"

Muffy scoffed, "Of course not, but I see that changing after tonight. You saw me today at the office. I hope he finds out and feels embarrassed. He deserves it after all he's done to me."

"Tell me all about it," her date grinned, leaning forward and placing his hand on her forearm, "I want to hear all about the private affairs of Ed Crosswire."

"He cut me off during college and left me hung out to dry, and now I'm stuck in Metropolis because I can't find other work. Before Maria I was bouncing around from condo to condo staying in friends' empty places, but now I'm with Maria, and my eyes are open to new things," Muffy said, sipping her martini. She looked up, "But I know you don't want to hear all about me."

"Actually I do. I'm in town on business, important business. Now that I see how he treats his own kin, you and Chip both, I'm concerned that he doesn't embody the values he preaches to us in private board meetings, the ones even you aren't allowed in for coffee runs. In those meetings, he says he's a genuine family man whose family grew with him, but now I see the truth."

"How far is this information going to go, about me being…me?" Muffy asked, choking on the word "escort."

The man smiled, "I'll be ending my contract abruptly, and if he asks why, I'll tell him the truth. He's not who he says he is, and you've opened my eyes to that. I'm glad you came out tonight. It's not easy doing something like this when you know people know, but look around you. Several guys from that meeting are here, and while some might think we're just hashing things out, they'll find out the truth when I get that dress off of you to reveal that little red bikini underneath."

Muffy blushed. He'd already caught a glimpse of her, but also, her outfit was a request. The driver even had one in the dash in case Muffy didn't have one already, but she did. She'd never worn it because it was far sexier than the bathing suits she normally wore, even her other bikinis.

But after he helped her get off her gown, she knew the bikini was perfect despite how revealing it was. All eyes were on her as she and her date waded into the pool and swam up to the pool-side bar. They rested on stools and got another drink, chatting and laughing as their fingers played with each other. After playing in the pool, splashing each other and laughing harder than they'd laughed in ages, they departed into the building. Rooms were available for what they ended up doing, and despite the shock of it all, Muffy knew one thing as she left later that night: This was the life for her.

Ladonna entered the classroom and looked around meekly. She'd taken her father's advice and returned to her old college to see if she could get back in. She'd have to retake one of her earlier courses because she didn't complete it the first time, but other than that, she was set to rekindle her degree.

But being in the classroom again was hard for Ladonna for multiple reasons. Her siblings and father had returned home a few days before because their business was settled, leaving Ladonna alone to deal with her mother's issues. The Magnolia Springs nurses were doing everything they could to work with Ladonna's mother, and she knew they were doing a good job with her care, a much better job than she was doing before they came. She was grateful for them and for the fund her mother created to pay them, but she still wanted to be there to keep a watchful eye over them.

As class began, Ladonna began thinking of ways she could be there without being there. As the professor wrapped up roll call and began discussing the course using the syllabus as a guide, Ladonna jotted down ideas in the margin of the document, flipping pages with her classmates to fit in. Really her mind was on nanny cams and microphones, distance apps and other technology, all of which would let her enter the house whenever no matter where she was in the world.

After departing her first class, Ladonna had an hour-long break, so she went to the campus library to do some online research. After renewing her password with the librarian, Ladonna was able to access the web and do the searches she needed .She found several systems that would suit her needs, but the cost bothered her. It was much more than she had, and while she was planning to get a job once her classes were settled, she needed that security system before she'd feel comfortable being out of the home for most of the day and evening. She had to make a choice, and despite the sick feeling in her gut, she made clippings of the articles and sent links to her father via email with the subject line "We need to talk about security."

Ladonna went to her second class with a weight off her shoulders. If her father or her siblings could help her pay for the system, she'd feel even more comfortable getting her own life again. She'd be perfectly fine with going to class in the morning and working in the afternoon or at night because her mother would be watched, not just by Ladonna but by her siblings as well.

The only problem was the work that Ladonna wanted. Her classes were to prepare her to become an office worker, a job she'd wanted for a while. She wanted to be the receptionist at a high rise office complex, which would allow her to know everything about everyone without leaving her desk. Ladonna knew she couldn't get a job like that right now, but part of her wondered if that was even what she wanted anymore.

After attending her third class, Ladonna looked over her syllabi and the course objectives. One class would help her typing, which she was grateful for because she typed like a turtle. But another class was about office organization, and her third, the class she stopped before, was about office documents. All she'd be doing all semester was writing memos, letters, meeting minutes, and other things according to her textbook's instructions.

Ladonna's dream didn't realize there was a mundane side to being a secretary. She wasn't going to be the watercooler diva or keep the workers' secrets that flowed past her desk every morning. She'd be a figurehead with a plastered-on smile, a smile that would be cracked as day to day problems piled up around her. The pay wasn't nearly enough for all the problems she'd have to deal with, and Ladonna wondered if this was really the right path for her.

As she thumbed over the documents, she realized this was something she could do for now. She could write stupid memos and keep a company running while she attended night school for something better. Besides, her college was currently paid for thanks to a college fund her parents started years ago. It was meant for whichever kid wanted to attend college, and so far, Ladonna was the only one, so all the money was going to her. After her initial degree, she'd be on her own, so Ladonna knew she'd have to stick it out.

But Ladonna wanted something else, so when she got home, she checked on her mother before sitting under a huge oak tree in her backyard. She thumbed through a career guide she'd gotten all the way back in third grade. Ladonna smiled as she thought of Mr. Ratburn's suggestion, a suggestion that got Fern angry. He wanted her to be a writer or a storyteller, and though he warned her it would be a difficult career, he wanted her to pursue it. Fern was angry because he wanted her to try being a librarian who wrote on the side or something like that, but from what Ladonna remembered, Fern failed out of college anyway. She thought about Elwood City and knew that's where she wanted to go when she was done here. She'd have to leave her mother behind, but Ladonna knew that was a risk worth taking. Her father was right. This was still her life, so she ought to go out and live it.

Richard helped calm Bitzi's nerves after her botched dinner with her son, but Bitzi's feelings about her son continued. She knew Buster might think her behavior was because she was a lonely aging woman with no man in sight, but she really was fed up with him thinking the next great woman was the one thing he needed to survive. Buster only needed himself, but lately he'd become a romantic. Dating Palladia wasn't going to help this issue. She devoured romance novels and romantic comedies for every meal of the day, and she'd had her wedding planned since she took a scrapbooking class with her mother when she was four years old.

Bitzi didn't mind the relationship in general, but knowing the details made her sick. Those two were probably going to get married, waste thousands on a huge wedding, then get divorced a year later due to "irreconcilable difference." It was more than Bitzi could take, but Richard helped her through.

After a quiet day at work, Bitzi found herself in her living room eating warmed over pizza while texting with him. Bitzi wanted face-to-face contact so she could finally get a sense of what her new best friend looked like, but Richard refused. The conversation continued as always without strain, but Bitzi wished she could get up the nerve to demand a phone conversation or a video chatting session. Richard was adamantly against these things, and it was starting to make Bitzi question who she was even talking to.

She knew these things happened because of Buster's MTV days. He'd watch a funny video show and leave the channel up when he left for school. Bitzi would wander into his room to turn it off so she could work in complete silence, and that's when she discovered Catfishing. The show was something Bitzi was intrigued by, and soon she was watching it on her own. She was amazed at how gullible those people could be.

But as she realized what she was doing, chatting online with a guy she felt in love with despite a lack of photographic evidence and other things, she realized she could easily be a victim. Richard could really be a twelve-year-old looking for laughs, which would explain why he didn't want to really be seen or why he didn't want his real voice heard.

Bitzi couldn't take this. She went to the refrigerator and dug around for wine but found none. After a short drive to the store, she returned with a bottle of white wine and poured herself a heaping glass of the liquid. She told Richard she was going to watch a movie and she'd text him later, but she was really online doing a search for his name as the wine started to work its magic.

Everything seemed legit. The name existed, and she even found a news story about his work from the town he said he was from. The wine combined with this evidence helped ease Bitzi's nerves, but she was still antsy. If Richard wasn't who he said he was, Bitzi would be devastated, or part of her would be. Part of her was desperate enough to see if it could work. If this person wasn't Richard but still wanted a relationship, she wanted to try to maintain it no matter what. She needed companionship and this person gave it to her, so why judge them if they aren't who they say they are?

With her decision made, Bitzi settled into bed as the wine's buzz took hold of her. She turned on a show and returned to her conversation with Richard. He called her out for being drunk, but she didn't mind. She was having fun with her companion, whoever he was.

Belinda wandered the house aimlessly. The laundry was done and the kitchen was clean after three days of being home. But her phone was silent, and the job listings were just as quiet for work that she felt she could do. Belinda was getting jumpy because of her lack of work, so she thought of alternatives. She decided to go out on the town after lunch to see what kind of work she could dig up. With school ending soon, most jobs were already guaranteed to teenagers once they were off on summer break. Feeling discouraged, Belinda found herself in the Powers' ice cream shop browsing the selection.

"How can I help you today?" Anita questioned, putting on food prep gloves and grabbing a clean scoop, "Having a hard time deciding?" she asked with a smile after a moment.

"Pretty much," Belinda nodded, "I've been out job hunting, but I don't know what I'm in the mood for at all. What job do I want? I don't know. What flavor of ice cream do I want? I have no idea. You know what? I'd like your flavor of the day, whatever that is. Wait, do you still do that?"

"No, but I'll pick for you. Is pistachio mint good?" Anita asked. Belinda nodded and watched her dip the green ice cream into a small bowl. "Do you want any toppings?"

"Rainbow sprinkles," Belinda said with a matter-of-fact tone. "It's been one of those days," she grinned, handing Anita her card. Once the transaction was complete, Belinda looked back, "What kind of jobs do you have available?"

"I'm actually expanding to a new location in Metropolis in a few weeks. But…you're Binky's mother, correct? I thought you were a nurse," Anita said as she tossed her food prep gloves and joined Belinda at a table close by.

"I was a nurse, but the general hospital just…they worked me to the bone, so I had no choice but to quit. No one else has gotten back to me, so I need something soon to help get bills paid. I mean, it's only been a few days so I'm probably overreacting, but it's so strange to not have work when you've worked your butt off for as long as I have," Belinda lamented, shoving a biteful of the ice cream into her mouth. She nodded, "This was exactly what I needed. Thank you."

"You looked it," Anita smirked. "Look, I've got problems of my own, so I understand you. These last few days have gone so slowly, so I feel you. I'll tell you what. You obviously have good leadership skills to be a nurse, and that's what I need in a manager. I'll send you home with some material, and if things work out with work in your field, great. If not, call me and I'll get you set up with me. The pay is nothing compared to what you got as a nurse, but most tips don't get taxed, so you can usually take home some pocket money after most shifts, which would help you with the commute."

"Thank you," Belinda smiled, taking another bite of her ice cream, "I knew it would be a good idea to come in here."

"Well, I'm glad to help. Hey, how is Binky, by the way?" Anita asked, looking up as another customer entered. When she was done getting their order, Belinda replied:

"He's been working with the railroad for a while. He took some basic engineering classes but decided they weren't for him, at least until he found this work. Now he's got a degree going and he gets good money. I don't know exactly what he does, but I'm not going to question him. What about Brain? How is he?" Belinda questioned.

Anita plastered on a smile, "He's fine. We're all doing quite well," she lied. Belinda didn't catch the lie as she finished her ice cream. Anita gave her the material, and Belinda went home content. Even though she had no new messages on her cellphone or landline, she was still content because she had a backup plan, a sweet one at that.

Anita entered her empty house and sighed. Her run-in with Belinda ended up being beneficial because she might have a manager for a new location. But talking with her only helped Anita see how not-fine everything in her life was. Her son was still AWOL in Chicago doing God knows what while kids like Binky went on to lead healthy, well-paid lives. Her alcoholic husband was still in jail for his DUI, and now she was having issues with Doria.

As Alex warned her, when Anita got her designs finalized, she and Doria met up at the print shop to make sure everything was fine. But everything wasn't fine because Doria had made unauthorized changes to Anita's design. She and the printer argued with Doria over the importance of keeping trademarked materials as-is, but Doria was a tough sell. She finally listened, but Anita wondered if that was yet another relationship that was about to take an awkward nosedive into silence.

The only good thing that came out of the day was finding Fern's book, through her mother of course. She sold her a copy for five bucks, which didn't seem like a lot, so for the first time in years, Anita curled up in bed preparing to read herself to sleep.

But her mind was preoccupied. Her husband had called her three times during the day, twice from phones at the prison and once through his court-appointed lawyer. His trial date had been set, and he wanted Anita there to support him, whether she actually wanted to support him or not. Anita didn't want to go for her own personal reasons, but part of her wanted to be there for her husband. She wanted him to be free from his troubles, but that would mean that he needed to be sober.

Anita put Fern's book to the side and pulled out her laptop like she'd been doing a lot lately. Instead of working on things for her business, Anita found herself online looking for alcoholism treatment facilities in and around Elwood City. There was an addiction center in the middle of town for all sorts of conditions, and Anita knew she needed to send her husband there in an attempt to help him escape his burdens.

As she jotted down the name and address, her phone rang. It was Alan, so she answered it and talked to him for a while. He wanted to know about his father, so Anita told him things were the same. Then he asked about the weather, namely the temperature. It was still cold in Chicago, he said, and he was tired of it.

Anita sighed, "Why don't you come back here? I can help you find work, and it's been warm here all month," she offered.

"No," he said adamantly just as he always did.

Anita sighed again, "Well honey, I can't help you if you won't even tell me why you don't want to come back here. You keep asking about how things are, yet when I ask you about coming home, you act like there's some monster here planning to come after you the moment you step into city limits. Unless you tell me what the monster is, I can't offer you anything," she ranted with far more anger than she intended.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," Alan whispered, ending the call immediately.

Anita exhaled slowly as she put her cellphone back on her nightstand. Anita shook her head. Every man in her life had more issues than she could handle, and even her own problems were starting to take on new life. Doria was becoming an issue, and Anita knew they needed to talk. It was after ten, but Anita knew if she sent a text now, Doria would respond before the next morning faded into afternoon. She asked about lunch, and sure enough, Doria responded a little after eleven to set up plans.

Anita turned over in bed and tried to get to sleep. Her eyes remained wide open as she thought about the swirling mass of problems that waited for her outside her bed. She closed her eyes and tried to will them out of her conscious mind. It worked just long enough for her to get to sleep, but the issues followed her into her dreams, making for a restless night of limited sleep.

Molly was asleep on the couch when James came home. He'd had to help close just like previous nights, but he was surprised to find his sister in the living room. Judging by the evidence, she'd fallen asleep in front of the television, but James could tell she didn't intend to fall asleep. A coffee mug sat on the table half-full of the caffeinated liquid. James knew to wake her up, and once she was lucid, he asked her why she was trying to wait up.

Molly smiled, "I don't think I should bother you tonight. I wanted to be awake with you to begin with. That would make it better."

"The way you make it sound, this is important," James said, sinking next to his sister, "Come on, tell me. What's going on? I know something's been bothering you, and I know it's something big because Rattles has been here."

"Wait, how did you know that Rattles had been here?" Molly asked with a stressed tone.

"I saw him at the store and he patted my head and walked off instead of asking how we were. That told me that he already knew how we were doing. Add in the strange tire tracks in the driveway, and yeah, I kinda figured it out on my own," James explained.

Molly sighed, "Well, I needed his help with something, and I'll continue needed his help for a while."

"You're not pregnant, are you?" James asked.

Molly laughed, "Oh, James, I wish it was that simple. I really, really do, but no, I'm not pregnant. You know I went to the doctor about my heartburn though, and you never really asked how it went, but it didn't go very well."

"What's wrong?" James asked with a hint of emotion in his voice. Molly was starting to get emotional too, and he fed off his sister's energy. He knew whatever she had to say wasn't good.

"He told me he wanted to do a scope test called an endoscopy. They basically stick a camera down your throat to see what's wrong, and he expected to find a defect in my esophagus or something like that. But instead he found tumors. I have cancer that isn't just confined to my stomach. He's found some tumors in my abdominal wall and some other places, but he thinks it's treatable. Rattles and his wife are going to take me to treatments next week, and I might need to get some other people involved too."

"Cancer is bad, right?" James questioned.

Molly nodded, "Cancer is really bad, especially in someone my age. It's not common, and I think he was pretty surprised to find it in me. He probably thought I was pregnant too," Molly grinned, wiping away a tear, "but it wasn't that simple. He hasn't given me much information on how bad things can get if these treatments don't work, but I think he's hopeful that my age will give me an advantage."

"What about work? Are you still going to be able to go in?"

"I'm going to try. Look, things aren't going to be easy around here, but with your job, we should be okay. Also, Rattles and his wife helped me fill out some paperwork. I got a letter today telling me my treatments would be paid for as long as I get the physician to send them the invoices, which he agreed to do when I called his office earlier. We're going to fight this, and we might not win, but I won't just leave you out to dry."

"I don't want you to leave me at all," James cried.

Molly pulled him into a hug as tears streamed down her face, "I don't want to leave either."

Prunella left the job interview at Hampton Motors with a soft grin on her face. She didn't know why she stepped into the lot she once knew as Crosswire Motors, but the Help Wanted sign called her name. She needed something else, and they were happy to hear her spiel. She emailed them her résumé before leaving, and she left them her phone number in case things did work out.

As she went off in search for dinner, she finally got back to Dr. Mano's voice mail that he'd left earlier. He wanted to move Rubella to a treatment center especially for rehabbing people like her, and Prunella just needed to tell him whether or not this was what she wanted. Her response was simple: As long as Rubella's insurance covered almost everything, they could do whatever they wanted. Prunella couldn't pay for her treatment, and she doubted Rubella had enough despite her tendency to hoard money and loose change.

She made her message clear before picking up a fast food burger and heading home. Once there, the shadows tried to make faces on the wall, but Prunella willed them away by turning on her television and another lamp. The television sounded funny from the kitchen, putting voices in her head, so Prunella moved into the living room and turned up the volume. The extra voices stopped, and she was finally able to finish her meal in peace.

Prunella thought about the last few days and realized she was doing that a lot. She kept hearing voices that morning while she worked, so she blasted her radio, which annoyed her officemates and brought her some dirty looks. Prunella didn't dare tell them the truth now that her "waving at the hallucination" story was the new office joke. They picked at her because they thought it was from all the work she was doing and the exhaustion, but Prunella didn't find it particularly funny. She decided that's why she subconsciously wanted to leave right then, but really she didn't know for sure. She just knew she wanted to leave.

The car dealership wasn't even her first interview. She'd had a phone interview with another advertising firm and printing establishment over the last few days, and she'd been trying to set up a good time with a water distribution plant just outside of town. Prunella was dabbling in anything that seemed semi-appealing in her search for something better, but her worry was only growing. What if she couldn't find something else? What if her current job was driving her crazy?

As she watched television and ate a dessert consisting of a pink of ice cream and tons of chocolate syrup, she wondered what her life was becoming. Her sister's illness was finally spilling into her life more than she wanted, and she wondered if her sudden disdain of her job and life was a sign to finally leave. Prunella had always wanted to get out of Elwood City, at least for college. That didn't exactly work out, but now could be her chance.

The television worked to distract her, but the thought nagged at her well into the night. She even dreamed of being on a cruise ship, then a plane piloted by Bo Baxter, and finally a road trip with Muffy Crosswire and some other girls from her Lakewood days. She woke up wondering what the dreams were trying to tell her. Was it her own creation or her mind's way of telling her to head for the hills?

Prunella didn't know, so she wrote down her dreams in her dream journal, dressed, and rushed out the door to start another day of work.

Mary was halfway through her current proposal when she checked in with Marina a few days later. She discovered Marina with a stressed look, but she kept her observation to herself as she discussed her work. The process itself would be time-consuming, probably dragging out longer than the school might last. Marina didn't know what to say about that, so Mary spelled it out for her:

"If the school shuts down completely before the money can get to them, the money might not be able to get to them. Either way, I'm adding in a clause about us considering new leadership in order to fully use this grant to its maximum potential. I just can't prove to them that these guys are really for the school's basic needs and beyond with the evidence I currently have."

"You've been digging into the school's private affairs?" Marina questioned.

"Of course," Mary grinned. "A major part of grant writing is getting to know your company, and since I'm working with an employee instead of the top dogs themselves, I've had to do my own digging to really get to the bottom of things. It's actually helpful this way because I don't have people trying to convince me they're something they're not. So, I've been able to really get to know these guys. They're all from fairly affluent backgrounds, and most were appointed by the generation that established the school. I feel like the only reason they're decent is because they have state mandates running things. I mean, yes, they hired some good people to teach the students and whatnot, but I feel like the state mandates are the real reason things have gone well thus far. Without those mandates, I think the students would basically be prisoners."

"Prisoners? Wow, that's a harsh accusation. What made you think that?" Marina asked.

Mary cocked her head, "Well, I have resources, plenty of them. For this case, I asked a friend of mine to do some work in digging up meeting transcripts, emailed conversations, and other things that can be found by hacking their server."

"Isn't that illegal?" Marina questioned meekly.

"Only if I use it for inappropriate means," Mary responded. She leaned forward, "Look, I'm just trying to figure out who I'm working with, as I already said. If I uncover what I think I'm going to uncover, we'll have plenty of evidence to include a chunk of text asking for new leadership. And there's a possibility someone could be trying to buy them out. If I can find out about any possible deals, I might try to steer them in our favor."

"How?"

"Well, if another company tries to buy them out that's better than anything these grants could get for us, we can approach the buyers and tell them the employees are in favor of new leadership. We can push them to fight harder for the place, and if the school finds out its employees would rather have new leadership, it could work in your favor," Mary explained, quickly adding, "But it could backfire, of course, and you all could lose your jobs. I don't intend for that to happen, and that's why I'm being so sneaky with my research. If I start digging out in the open, they'll know something's up, and from what you've said, it's already clear that you're not on their side. They must know by now that you're trying to find solutions."

"Possibly," Marina agreed, "but I don't really talk to anyone anymore. Anthony was my confidant, but now I've really messed things up with him. I need to talk to him, but I don't know if I'll be able to. I haven't really tried yet anyway. He needs time to work through his own issues. I did kinda reject his offer to work for his father's school."

"Well, that's why I've mentioned digging. I'm hoping to find out that he's trying again to buy the place out. I feel like the Board of Directors presented a counteroffer that seemed bigger than he was willing to pay because he thought he'd have to redo everything. If I find out the truth and can get him to listen, he might try to buy again. And maybe you should approach Anthony soon and let him know what you were thinking," Mary offered.

"I don't know. I don't know what I'd even tell him. I mean, I just…I guess I should tell him about my experiences with rich people. I grew up around the Crosswire family, so that's just what I picture when I hear about rich people," Marina explained.

"Tell him that, and I think he'll understand. There's probably more to his anger anyway, more than you can know," Mary winked, gathering her things. "I'll keep you informed, but I wanted to let you know I'm almost done. And I needed to tell you about the process. If no one buys out the place and these grants don't come in time, you'll be out of luck. Do you have a backup plan?"

"No, but I don't get the feeling I'll need one," Marina said with complete honesty. Mary didn't understand, but she didn't worry herself with it. She left to continue her work.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jane flipped through a magazine as Kate looked around the waiting room. This was their last appointment with her doctor before her surgery date, and though she was happy to be checked out of school early, sitting in the room made her nervous. She eyed the art on the walls, then the pamphlets beside her covering the various disorders her orthopedic surgeon dealt with, and finally her eyes fell on her mother.

"You okay?" Jane asked.

Kate shrugged, "I guess. Are you sure I really need the surgery? It doesn't hurt as much anymore as long as I don't run or jump or something stupid like that."

"But you haven't had gym this semester, and you'll have gym again in the fall. It's better to get it now and start the physical therapy than to show up here in August or September in complete agony needed surgery ASAP, right?" Jane argued.

Kate sighed, "I guess. I just don't really want to go under the knife. DW said I'm going to have weird dreams or something, but she listens to weird music, so she would say something like that."

Jane closed her magazine and set it beside her, "What kind of music does DW listen to?"

"She likes metal now. She used to be really into pop, but ever since she got held back in tenth grade, she started listening to metal. She said if the school is going to treat her like some sub-par citizen, she's going to act like one. She told me she's saving up for a Death Moo concert," Kate grinned.

"Death Moo?"

"They're her favorite band. When I found out I asked her what was up with cows since she was in love with Mary Moo Cow when she was younger, but she stopped talking to me. She doesn't really talk to anyone anymore, but all of her friends graduated without her. She feels really bad about that. I think she wanted you to pull her out of school to do homeschooling or something when she got held back," Kate said.

"Did she really say that to you?" Jane asked. Kate nodded. Jane sighed, "Well, we just couldn't do that. She's not the only one who's been held back in the middle of high school. And we pushed her to work on her grades. She swore she couldn't do it, but now she's set to graduate. I think she figured out the lesson without special treatment."

Kate shook her head, "I don't know. I mean, her grades improved, but she's so different now. I don't want to talk to her, but she sometimes comes to me. I think she's jealous. She told me I have it so easy, but I don't see us as being that different. I have to go to tutoring after school if I want to do well in math, and now I need surgery. I mean, even if the surgery works, I could still jack up my knee again in gym or something. She doesn't have that problem, and I'm okay with being the only one, but I wish she would stop feeling so sorry for herself. I don't think she has it that bad, but she swears she does."

"How dark does she get?"

Kate shrugged, "Again, we don't talk, but she told me people who think suicide is the answer are stupid. That made me feel a lot better because I was starting to wonder. She told me about some guy online who approaches her a lot and tells her to kill herself. I told her to block him, but she told me she lets him talk to her because he's funny."

"Kate Read?" the nurse called.

Kate smiled, "I think she'll be fine once she's out of high school and out of the house."

"She wants to move out immediately? Into her own apartment?" Jane asked as she picked up her things and followed her daughter back to the exam room.

Kate shrugged again, "I don't know what she's planning, but she's got rent jars all in her closet filled with loose change. I mean, she's always had those, and they used to be for other things, but now all of them say RENT except for one, and that one is covered with Death Moo sticker patches."

Jane nodded and took her usual seat to the side of the exam table. Listening to Kate talk about her sister comforted her, but it gave her a new problem. Kate's upcoming surgery, plus David's overall behavior, meant they could all find out about their father's problem soon. If DW found out their father was addicted to pills, how would she react? Jane realized now that DW didn't really need help beyond the typical support a teen needed. David needed something, and he needed it sooner rather than later.

Jane needed to call Thora. They needed to stage an intervention or something to get through to him. He needed help, so they needed to find a way to get him that help as soon as they possibly could.

Francine's new "pot" arrived within a few days, and she immediately put it in her office. She had it set to wirelessly transmit to her computer at home, which was connected to a storage device that Catherine helped her purchase. Francine would still have to be picky about what footage she kept, but she had it angled to get only the best footage—the camera was facing her layout desk, specifically the part of her he liked to grab the most.

Later in the morning, she found herself at the layout board to choose photographs for her section. As she adjusted her choices and their order, she heard someone step into the room. She turned around to see Samantha with a box of her things in her arms. Her mascara stained her cheeks, but currently her eyes were dry. She had a determined look as she eyed Francine.

"What happened?" Francine asked.

Samantha smirked, "He really messed up this time. I'm going straight to the hospital. He raped me, and I'm going to file charges. Thanks for opening my eyes, and spread the word. I want the whole world to know what I've just gone through," she said, throwing Francine a card with her number on it. She then left the office, using the elevator on her way out.

Francine was stunned. She knew Thornton was grabby, but would he really force himself onto a woman? Fear gripped her, and for an hour, Francine sat at her desk and piddled as she tried to get her thoughts together. When lunchtime came, she asked the girls to a pizza bar all the way across town. They agreed because Francine was adamant, though all of them wondered why they would leave the vicinity of the office for something as silly as pizza.

Once the women were settled around the table, Francine dropped the bombshell without warning:

"Samantha walked out this morning. She said he raped her," Francine said sternly.

"What? He's only touched the rest of us. Why would he do that?" one asked.

Francine shook her head, "I thought the same thing, but she said she was heading to the hospital so she could file charges from there. She's going to pursue them, and I just don't know where this is going to go. I think she just escalated things without meaning to. We're not ready to go after him yet. My camera just arrived today."

"Like that'll help if he decides to go after us. I think we should all head for the hills if these charges don't work. I mean, he could get a not guilty verdict—"

"For a good reason," another coworker interrupted, leaning forward, "Samantha is the type of girl who would coerce him into having sex, then she'd cry rape just to get him in trouble. I'm sorry, but that's just how I see it."

Francine shook her head and sighed, "I hate to admit it, but you're right about that. Samantha has always gotten her way. That's why I approached her before everyone else, because I thought she'd be onboard with changes. Now I think she's too onboard. If she did lie, she just opened a can of worms that we might not be able to deal with."

"I'm not sticking around if things get worse," one coworker said, and the others quickly agreed, as did Francine. They couldn't stay if Thornton was going to get worse, so they would just have to try to get things done from afar…or run and cut their losses.

After another shift at the Greasy Burger, Fern decided to return home as if things were normal. Her intention was to work on her latest project, but as she sat down at the keys, she found herself stuck once again. She tried rereading the last few pages, studying her outline, and other techniques that used to work in the past, but she found herself at a loss.

She was concerned that she'd possibly lost her touch. She was okay with her situation at the moment because her reviews were out there, and Alex's fake accounts had rated them. Together they were going to make an impact, and she was content that the public would turn on her mother eventually. That meant she needed to develop a new project or finish her current one.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She had writer's block because pressure was mounting. She was technically a published author now despite the circumstances, which meant she needed a sequel project to make herself look better, to escape the miserable reputation she was about to acquire. Her next project had to be the best thing she'd ever written, and Fern knew this once-secret thought was the cause for her block.

The problem? She had no idea how to fix it. She tried the moment after this thought to start writing again, but she froze. The words refused to come, and she had no idea what to add next even if the words did appear magically from her fingertips.

Fern began to panic, but she didn't want to bother Alex with her problems. Instead she decided to focus on her project. She checked her journal and discovered the next identity and account. She began the process of creating the account and making it seem real. She faked several reviews for some books she read during high school and put them on the account, then she put it aside to post her real review for her book at a later time.

Fern did email Alex the information for the account, and he too agreed to follow it after a few days to make it more realistic. Fern thanked him for his help, and despite the nagging feeling to tell him her problems, she kept it to herself. Her problems had been her own for so long, and despite the connection they'd forged over the last few days, Fern still felt like Alex was one of those friends by force brought to her by specific circumstances. If he wasn't the graphic designer her mother always turned to, she doubted they would've come in contact at all, let alone started this campaign in the first place.

Fern sighed as her mother announced dinner. Fern plastered on her best "Everything is perfectly fine" looks before heading downstairs. Once there, she found takeout boxes from a local meat and vegetable restaurant. Fern stared at her plate as her mother began ranting to her father about how her life was going:

"So Anita decides to start arguing with the printer because I made her designs better, and they both claimed trademarks or something. What the hell? I've never had any of my clients approach me with such nonsense. I don't know what's going on, but someone told her to look for flaws. I need to go after that doctor's office that rejected my pamphlets. They asked for the work to add to the deal I made for them, but all they've done is complain, complain, complain ever since. I bet they told Anita something," Doria hissed as she stabbed at a piece of grilled zucchini.

Fern's father kept eating in silence, and Fern knew to be quiet as well. Fern knew who Anita was, and she also knew that Alex was probably working on her promotional material for her new location. He'd told her that he warned someone else about her mother's work, and Fern's mind put the pieces together. Alex gave Anita the heads up, and worst of all, she found her mother's edits. Fern wondered how long her mother had been doing this as her mother broke into another rant:

"And you know what else happened today? Someone demanded a refund on Fern's book. They read it and hated it, then they told me the online reviews agreed. We self-published! Who's out there leaving reviews? I refused. I mean, five bucks is five bucks, and I told them the money was going to Fern. They said that was fine as long as the low-life editor didn't get a penny. They know I edited the book! I could see it in their eyes! And online reviews? Pfft! I doubt I'll find anything if I Google this book, not that I'm going to. Why is Elwood City full of a bunch of liars now? I thought this was a decent place to live, but these people are monsters!" she ranted.

Fern was stunned. Her reviews were making a difference somehow, which was great, but the community also realized something was up without the reviews. This caused a wave of happiness to flow through her, but she needed to hide it.

Fern closed her box and moved it to the microwave as her mother continued to complain about their neighbors. Fern returned upstairs, and this time she did contact Alex with this new information. He too was elated, but they both knew their work wasn't done yet.

After reading Alex's response, Fern decided to try to write again. The words wouldn't come so she went back to the top and started reading. She wasn't getting inspired to add anything, but she did begin to realize that this piece was a viable option for her real first-published book, and she hoped that would ease her writer's block when she tried to write again.

Sue Ellen was attempting to work on assignment when Pierre contacted her. It was late where he was, at least eleven o'clock, and he too was working on a project. He begged Sue Ellen for help, but she refused:

"Look, I've got my own assignments that I have to get done today. I can't help you with yours. I couldn't even do the work while I was there. What makes you think that changed the moment I came back here?" Sue Ellen asked with more force than she expected.

"I don't understand how you can get a higher education in America but you can't get one in France. What's the difference?" Pierre spat.

"There are tons of differences. French schools are harder in general, and jumping into grad school all of the sudden made it even harder for me. I thought you knew that," Sue Ellen whispered. Pierre shook his head. Sue Ellen sighed, "Well, your schools are harder and I couldn't handle it. That's the main reason I wanted to come back, and I thought I made that clear to you."

"I thought you were scared. A lot of Americans have left in the last few months because of the terror attacks and the threat of terror attacks. I thought you might be one of them or that your parents might be involved."

"No, they were both happy for me to be there, or at least I thought so. You know, maybe that's why my mom has been asking me about school so much lately. Maybe she or Dad is scared that I could get hurt over there. I should ask them, but I'll do it later. I have a lot of work to do here, reading in particular. And I'm sorry I can't help you," Sue Ellen added.

"It's fine. I should've listened to you better," Pierre smiled. "I won't ask you about school work again, but I don't mind continuing to help you financially. I want us both to be successful even if you're in another country."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it," she said kindly. Pierre nodded and ended the call.

Sue Ellen sighed and eyed her assignment. Suddenly her parents and George came to mind. She knew a conversation with her mother could take hours, so she decided to look at George's contact info. Next to his email he had a star letting her know that was the best way to reach him. She sent him an email telling him what she'd just discussed with Pierre. George's response was almost immediate:

"I'm so glad you two worked things out. I think we both thought he was being really sketchy asking you for work. I can't believe the money is legitimate though. You're so lucky."

Sue Ellen nodded. She was quite lucky, but she knew her lies still brought up a unique problem. She needed to ask her parents why they were suddenly so concerned about her education. Were they scared for her? If they were, her move was a good one, but she still had to be careful with the subject. Her parents might want her home, but finding out she came home without telling them might make them angry. She'd continue to take things one day at a time, not that she had much of a choice. Her assignments were piling up, and she had more work to do than she ever expected.

Jenna's initial thoughts about Frank's new home were instantly erased. This was not a beautiful small home where they could build a life together. It was a prison, and the signs were there before she even set foot in the house. She should've noticed the small bedroom he said could make a good nursery had a lock on the door, one that locked from the outside. The windows were barred throughout the house, and because of the new construction, there were no loose boards. Once she was locked in that room, she was stuck there.

The only comforts he allowed her at first was a stack of orange contractor's buckets and a thin, worn mattress on the floor. The room was colder than she preferred it, and the bed was highly uncomfortable because of her condition. She changed positions what felt like every fifteen minutes, but she knew she was stuck here indefinitely. Frank was furious that she'd ever thought of leaving in the first place. Now that she was back, she had to be punished.

Jenna studied the room and realized he wanted this to be hers and the baby's. He had put a large bear sticker on the wall across from the windows over where a crib could go. A box of diapers sat in the corner, mostly empty but there were still some inside.

Even with these attempts at creature comforts, Jenna knew she had a tough decision ahead of her. She could easily kick Frank out of the delivery room at the hospital, if he even took her, and while he was gone, she could tell them everything. She could get away from him with her baby and attempt to live happily ever after having learned her lesson about him and his behavior. He didn't want her back—he wanted to control her once again, and she'd walked right into his trap.

The more Jenna considered this option, the more she realized she likely wouldn't have much of a say if Frank threw his weight around in the delivery room. The one thing she could do was to make sure her baby had a way out. She'd have to give it up for adoption, and she'd have to make sure Frank didn't resist the effort. This might be his kid, but Jenna felt he didn't deserve the baby or her. She just wished she'd realized that twelve hours earlier so she wouldn't be in this situation. Lunch was a mistake, seeing the house was a mistake, and not rushing inside when she was at home was a mistake. She could've run away then, but she her mind was clouded.

Jenna shook her head as she studied the room. The bear sticker was a nice addition, and she wondered what it would say if it could come to life. She daydreamed about the possibility while rubbing her pregnant belly, a tiny smile on her lips.

Muffy stepped into her office and knew immediately that her date kept his word. Ed was screaming into the phone to the man's secretary begging to know why he'd cancelled the contract. The woman assured him that a handwritten letter explaining his choices was in the mail, but Ed wanted a verbal answer right now.

Muffy tried to ignore her father as she looked at her stack of work. She had files to put away, copies to make for an important meeting later in the day, and she had several emails and phone calls to respond to within the next few hours. It was a never-ending cycle that drove her crazy, but she knew she had no choice, despite receiving her first check from the agency the night before. It was more than she expected it would be, and it was far more than she made in a single paycheck from her day job.

She wanted to do her night job full time, but she knew she was needed here at the moment, not for the horrible work she was doing, but for the entertainment of watching her father freak out because of a contract she helped convince a client to break. It was her date that put the final nail in the coffin that now contained that contract, and she knew the handwritten letter he was sending would explain everything, particularly Ed's poor treatment of his children.

But she couldn't focus on the fruits of her effort. She had mounds of work to take care of and zero time to handle everything before the work was needed. And since Ed was already in a horrible mood, she knew any errors on her part would make her the target of his screaming. So she picked up her copies and moved to the copy room to begin her work.

When she stepped inside and started her first round, she heard someone step in behind her and close the door. Muffy turned to see her brother standing there, a sly look on his face. Muffy turned back to her work, but it was soon clear that Chip was here to talk to her.

"So, how long is it going to be before Dad knows you were at that party last night on a date with the guy he's pissed at?" Chip asked.

Muffy grinned, "It wasn't a date, but more importantly, it's none of your business."

Chip laughed, "You weren't on a date? Then what was that? You probably had plenty of time to hear about that party and get there to have freaky fun time with a client."

"With a client, yes, but you've got it completely wrong. I suggest you stop worry about my business and start focusing on your own. If you mess up today, Daddy might fire you on the spot," Muffy reminded him.

Chip shook his head, "You're the one who's going to get fired when he finds out."

"He cancelled the contract to help you as well," Muffy whispered. "He didn't like how Daddy treated us, and meeting with me last night only confirmed his fear. He didn't want someone handling his business that mistreats his kids. That's why he cancelled the control, and my whatever you want to call it with him didn't truly effect his decision. I think he would've cancelled either way."

Chip scoffed, "I'm still going to have a little chat with him. If I can get ahead, maybe things will end up better for me. You can just find something else to do like they've wanted all along."

"They treat you the same way and you know it."

Chip shrugged, "So be it, but I'm more perseverant than you."

Chip left the copy room and Muffy shook her head. She couldn't understand her brother, not that she ever could in the first place. He was just so much older than her, and Muffy knew it was best to ignore him and focus on herself. She double-checked her first copies to assure they were perfect, then she started on the next round. She focused on her work, and though she was worried her father might get rid of her, she knew now that she had a way out, even if it was questionable.

Ladonna's family came through with the security system. A few days later, the morning nurse needed to miss a few hours to handle a family emergency, and Ladonna acted on her free time. She called the company and they installed the cameras within the hour, leaving with plenty of time to spare. Ladonna checked her systems and knew they were functional, and with that peace of mind established, she knew it was time to seek out a job.

Ladonna's schooling was for business, but she didn't want a job in her field quite yet. So she peeked around the classified ads and drove around the downtown square. After some debating she found herself at a bakery and boutique on the square that had a HELP WANTED sign in the window. She stepped in and was greeted by a bubbly blonde about her age. Ladonna was shocked to see that a girl that young had her own business and could produce such beautiful goods, but she knew to keep her head high and make her purpose clear.

"How may I helped you today?"

"I noticed the sign in your window and wondered what kinda help you needed," Ladonna replied.

The girl smiled, "Oh, we finally have someone brave enough to come in. I've had that sign up for about a month now, but no one wanted to come in. I don't know why, of course, because it's rather simple what I need. I'm running two businesses at once, a cake-baking business and a boutique, and I could really use someone to help run the boutique so I'm not running around like a chicken with her head cut off," she smiled. "Do you have any retail experience?"

"I was a bag girl at a store in Elwood City. That's up in Massachusetts," Ladonna said.

"I recognize you now. You're one of the Compson kids, but I couldn't tell you which one. Well I didn't even know y'all were back in town."

"Well it's just me and my mom. My siblings and my dad are still back up in Elwood City. My parents divorced, so they quit doing things together, and I just wanted to come back home for college—"

"And how's your momma doing? She used to love my chocolate cupcakes, remember?"

Ladonna blushed, "Actually I don't quite remember. I feel like I should—"

"I'm Beverly Smith. I used to babysit y'all, well namely the youngest two. You're Ladonna then. I see the recognition on your smile," she grinned.

"Wow, I can't believe I didn't recognize you. You haven't changed a bit," Ladonna said, shaking her head, "Momma did like you cupcakes, but she wouldn't let us have any. Bud and I were a little hyper."

Beverly laughed, "I bet he still is. Look, I trust you. If you want the job, it's yours. I know you'll be a hard worker, and I don't think you'll be swiping from the till."

"I have a request, if you don't mind. Momma has Alzheimer's now, and I've got some cameras at the house to make sure things are going okay. You don't mind me checking in on her or reading for my homework or anything like that, do you?"

"Of course not, as long as you help with the customers. Wow, your momma has Alzheimer's already? That must be terrible. If you ever need anything, just ask me, and if you have to leave all of the sudden, I'll manage. I've made it this long," Beverly grinned. She looked Ladonna over, "You can probably help me with my catering too if I need it. You look strong enough."

"I can probably help you, no problem," Ladonna nodded.

Beverly smiled, "Good. We'll work out everything when you really start. Is Saturday good for you?" she asked. Ladonna nodded, and with that they departed.

Ladonna made her way to the college for her next class. She was happy to have a job already, but she was worried now. Beverly knew everyone in town, and now she'd blurted out about her mother's condition. She didn't want pity or sympathy or people dropping by unannounced with casseroles or cakes or whatever else they decided to bring. She didn't mind the community supporting her, but she knew how the place was, and she didn't want all of that.

But she couldn't focus on how that conversation had gone. Her first class came with a pop quiz, so Ladonna remained focus on her schooling and the material she was supposed to know from her homework. She had no idea if she'd do well on the quiz or not, but Ladonna knew she had to keep her grades up. This quiz was a sneak peek into her progress. If she did well, she was fine. If she didn't do well, she needed to work on herself. That would be hard to do, but if she needed to work on herself, she would do her best to make that happen.

Bitzi was working on a project at home in order to complete it for a special Friday edition. She was putting the finishing touches on the last paragraph when she got a text message from Richard. Bitzi ignored it at first. Their last conversation had tense undertones because she was questioning him again. She didn't think three hours was too far away to meet someone you were starting to get serious with, and while Richard tried to argue his case, he had to admit that he and Bitzi were getting closer. The text conversation before that was filled with romantic emojis and sexual language. Bitzi was shocked when she read back over the conversation. She had just sexted with a man she didn't know, so when they spoke again, she had to meet him. She needed to meet him, but he refused.

Now that he texted back, Bitzi wanted to know if he'd changed his mind or thought of another excuse. She finished her piece, saved it, and closed it out without looking it over. She'd look it over later when it had sat a while. Right now she needed to look to see what Richard had said, and if his mind had changed.

'Baby, you're right. 3 hours is nothing nowdays. I want to see you, but I can't go right now. I'm going to ask my boss about something though.'

The text cutoff and Bitzi saw the second part was in progress. A moment later her phone buzzed in her hands and the message was completed:

'There's a seminar in Metropolis that he wants me to go to. Maybe you can come too?'

Bitzi smiled. This was exactly what she wanted, and she felt her heart pound in anticipation. She'd never felt this way, not in a long time. Yes, it had been a while, but no, it wasn't her first. She felt the same way before her first concert, which brought her face to face with a musician she'd crushed on for most of her teen years. This felt exactly like that, and Bitzi was eager to respond:

'I can do that. Just tell me when and I'll tell you where. There's a rib place you have to try.'

'Sounds good,' he replied. Another message arrived a moment later, 'I'm sorry I upset you. I've never done this before.'

Bitzi laughed, 'Neither have I. I just wanted to see you to make this real. I don't mind the distance. I mind not knowing you.'

Richard agreed, and Bitzi could sense that things were falling into place. They began another one of those sexual conversations, and she found herself desperately wanting a man's company for the first time in decades. She dated a lot, yes, but she rarely fooled around. She grew fearful that she and Richard would meet up for lunch and end up in an alleyway somewhere.

She blushed at the thought but then another one came to mind. She was still worried that he was a catfish, and if he was, this seminar rouse could be just that, a ploy to convince her that he was trying to get there. He'd then cancel last minute, apologizing profusely and probably offering up some horrible excuse to twist her emotions in his favor.

Bitzi scowled as a sick feeling entered her stomach. She hated the idea of Richard not being real, of him being some figment of a sick person's imagination. She knew she needed to be careful, and thinking of the possibilities in today's world was one of the ways she could be careful. But she had to be positive too. Maybe he was weary of travel, both from the moving around itself and the anxiety of going that far from home. Maybe he was very much real, and maybe they would end up in an alleyway or a dark corner of a parking deck—

Bitzi's phone buzzed and the next message nearly sent her over the edge. She excused herself to her bedroom, the fears of catfishing out of her mind as human urges overtook her.

Belinda picked up the phone expecting a rejection. It had been a solid week since her supposedly good interview, and not only was the job listing still up on their website, but they hadn't contacted her. She'd refrained from inquiring about the job on her own because she'd heard stories about the boss himself being a little touchy about desperate-sounding nurses. He was a temperamental man, so when she saw the call was from his office, she thought she'd missed getting the job for some other reason.

But it wasn't a rejection. They accepted her, and they needed her as soon as possible to do hiring paperwork so she could start immediately. Belinda was grateful, and after stopping by to do her paperwork, she picked up dinner from one of the family's favorite restaurants and headed home with the surprise. She found her husband digging around the freezer when she arrived, and Mei-Lin was neck-deep in the pantry trying to come up with ideas. Her face lit up when she saw the familiar bags, and within moments, they were gathered around the table digging into their dishes.

"So, what's the special occasion?" Charles asked after chewing his bite.

Belinda grinned, "I got the job."

"Wow, Mom, really?" Mei-Lin exclaimed. Belinda nodded happily before sharing a kiss with her husband. Mei-Lin gasped, "Does this mean you'll finally be home more so I can see you more often?"

"Yes, yes it does. My hours will be from eight until three, so I can take you to school and pick you up if you'd like," Belinda offered. Her daughter was eager, and Charles was quite happy with this change:

"Hmm, that means I can go back to my old schedule and come in with everyone else. My boss will be quite happy with that, if I tell him. I could also sleep in now and just stay at work a little later on days when I'd normally have to leave early," Charles smiled, a childlike expression on his face as he realized the freedom his wife's flexible schedule gave him. "This is really great honey. When do you start?"

"Monday morning, bright and early," Belinda replied, pausing to chew a bite of food. When she was done, she looked up, "I'll be getting an extra five dollars an hour because of my experience and commute. They surprised me with that today when I got the paperwork finished. I'll be making a full fifteen dollars more."

Charles shook his head in disbelief, "Wow, that's amazing. Does anyone back at the hospital even know what happened?"

"No, but I've been meaning to call Shayna. She was one of my best friends out there, and I'd love to know how things are without me around. I think I'll do that after we eat. Oh, and maybe we can go out for ice cream after I get paid or something. I need to tell Anita the good news and I'd rather tell her in person," Belinda smiled. Charles nodded but Mei-Lin whooped for joy.

After finishing, Belinda excused herself to the guest room with the family's cordless phone. She dialed Shayna's cell and caught her just as she was leaving the hospital, which meant she'd worked an extra two hours beyond her shift despite having a four-year-old at home with her sister.

"Hey, Belinda," Shayna sighed, "Girl, you just don't know what you missin'."

"That's why I finally decided to call you," Belinda admitted, sighing heavily herself, "I just didn't want to know, but I need to know, and I need to tell you about my new job."

"Unless they've got something for all of us, I don't wanna hear about your new job," Shayna said harshly, "That's what you're missing. They said all of us weren't good enough, so when the hospital merges next month, we're all being replaced. And we didn't even know about the merger. I even called the newspaper and they had nothing on it."

"You're kidding!"

"Girl, I wish I was. I got a baby at home and I could have another on the way. I go to the doctor next week. I can't have another kid, not right now. You know my man can't carry four people on his paycheck and with his problems," Shayna said, shaking her head, "If I am pregnant, I'll have to give this baby up or go back home. I can't go back home right now."

Belinda thought about Shayna's situation and agreed. She'd met her on-again, off-again boyfriend six years ago. Two years in, she had Calvin, and things had been tense since then between them. He wanted to be in his son's life but enjoyed drinking and smoking too much to really dedicate himself. So Shayna moved to Elwood City to be around her extended family and to get a job at the hospital. If she went home, she'd have to deal with a mother who was strict and hard to deal with, plus her judgmental siblings with better lives. No, she didn't need to go home, but she needed a new job, as did everyone else in that hospital.

Belinda sighed, "When I get started, I'll see what they have for you, even if it's something small. I know they won't mind a pregnancy because I saw two nurses today that seemed to be carrying. I'll help you make this work as best as I can."

"Good luck. And I'm sorry I'm being so hard on you. Everyone says he fired you—"

"I quit. He was trying to get me to work a trauma," Belinda corrected.

Shayna was taken aback, "A trauma? You're not trained for that, and we haven't had one in a few months now. They always get taken straight to Metropolis, usually by helicopter."

"Exactly. That's why I said I couldn't go in. I'd just finished my shift when they called, plus he was going to lie to get me to come in? I just couldn't take it anymore, and I'd already been looking for jobs. I was starting to get desperate so I looked at some local things just to get some money. You know, I can talk to the woman who owns the Powers Ice Cream Shop for you."

Shayna laughed, "No, I can't work around ice cream. I'm allergic to peanuts, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Belinda said, shaking her head, "I guess I forget since I don't see Binky much anymore. Well, I tried, and I'll keep trying. I'll call you if I come up with anything. You just keep me updated."

"Okay. Well I've gotta get home to Calvin. My cousin is watching him and I know she's got homework," Shayna said.

The call ended, but Belinda sat there thinking about their conversation for twenty more minutes. She knew things were bad at the hospital, but she had no idea they were this bad. If they replaced everyone, fifty-plus people would be out of a job, and people from out of town would probably be pulled in to replace them. It was unfair for everyone involved, and Belinda wondered what she could do about it.

After a day of making sure her promotion items were completely right and doing paperwork, Anita found herself home alone again. She ate some takeout alone in her usual spot at the dining room table, but eating at the center of all those empty chairs made her feel lonesome. She was beginning to regret handling her husband's situation the way she did. His lawyer did manage to contact her, and she did decide to finally call her husband. He was drunk again from jail hooch, and Anita was just frustrated.

She was equally concerned about her son being wherever he was. She felt like she needed him right now, to help her deal with her husband's issues as well as her business, but he was off with his own problems. She was worried about what he was doing and if he was safe, but she was growing ever more concerned about whatever was keeping him away from home in the first place. She didn't think it had anything to do with her or her husband, but something was keeping him away, something big.

Anita was at a loss, and she shook her head as she thought of his situation. He'd done fine in school, and when he first went off to college, he was doing great. The first three years were easy, he said, but the fourth was a struggle because he had so much to do in order to prepare for graduation and graduate school all at the same time. Anita remembered him working out everything on his own because that's how he wanted it, so she and James stayed out of it. They went to his graduation and that was about it. He wanted them to do nothing more, nothing less.

He came home that summer and seemed even worse. Anita wondered if the thought of graduate school was getting to him. He worked afternoons at the shop, but he spent his mornings working to save up money or going off to do something for the process. He was private with his comings and goings, which she didn't mind, but now she wondered if something happened during that time. He showed no signs at first. He wasn't particularly eager to fly to school, but he left anyway to start the next phase of his life, as he called it. It wasn't even a month later when he called to say he was fine but he couldn't take it anymore. He was going to Chicago for the weekend to see a Cubs game and have some food at a restaurant she'd never heard of. The next thing she knew he was stuck there by his own choice, working some minimum wage job and living in some tiny apartment he said was just fine.

Anita sighed as she tried to fill in the gaps of the story, but she couldn't get his side. She'd tried looking up his old friends online, and while she had befriended them, she'd yet to drum up the courage to ask any of them what was up with him. She'd thought of asking Sue Ellen, who was often with him at graduation school prep events despite her going to France, but she knew the girl was away and she didn't want to bother her. Then she thought of Arthur or Francine, but they both looked so busy online, if they were online at all.

After cleaning up her dinner, Anita settled at the computer and checked Facebook. There were mostly posts from her community of contacts, but she did notice a post from Alex the graphic designer. He was doing a personal project and showed off his work. Anita liked it because it was very good-looking. She smiled as she realized his potential, a smile that quickly faded as she realized how many people had it better than her son, and it was all because of his own choices.

Ten minutes online was all it took. Anita went on her son's abandoned Facebook page and looked through his list of other friends. One stood out to her, Lydia Fox. Every few weeks for what looked like years, she asked where he was or what he was doing on his wall. Anita wasn't friends with her because she'd forgotten about her. She'd met Lydia when they were in elementary school, but she thought Lydia only met her son through special events. As she looked over her son's page, she realized they'd kept in contact somehow, probably online.

Anita sent the request, but she was tired of being online. She pulled a book from the study and took it upstairs. The reading didn't calm her mind, but she almost didn't want to be calmed. She couldn't fix her husband's problems. His trial would get here soon enough, then the judge could decide what to do with him. But she could do something about her son, and she hoped Lydia would be the way to do that.

Rattles sighed, "So you finally just laid it on him, huh? I know that must've been hard," he said, shaking his head as he took in another fry. He and Molly were eating takeout after her first treatment, and while she'd gotten a kids' chicken nugget meal, she could barely eat from the anxiety the treatment caused. She was self-conscious about the black sharpie marks covering her chest, so she wore a black denim jacket buttoned to the top despite the heat in the room.

Rattles looked up to her distant eyes and reached out to touch her hand. She pulled away, "Yeah, I told him like I was supposed to, and I told everyone at work and at school. Four weeks until graduation, four weeks," she whispered, shaking her head firmly. "No one could believe it. The professor I told started crying. She had to leave the room."

"That must've been hard to look at," Rattles said softly, returning to his fries.

Molly nodded, "It was. I was told later that I'm her first sick student. She's been doing this twenty years, and she has this wall of photos of girls killed in car accidents or boating accidents, and one even committed suicide when her boyfriend dumped her or something. I don't know their stories, but I could tell by the look in her eye that she didn't want to have me up there as cancer girl, graduated then killed by a heartless disease."

"I'm sure she wants the best for you just like everyone else. That's why she was upset. She knew you had a tough fight ahead and she couldn't handle thinking about it," Rattles smiled, but his optimistic approach was quickly shot down:

"No, I could tell what she was thinking. She told us her mother died last year. She died from cancer, and she told us that all of them died from it, her mother and her aunt, even three uncles from the same side, all dead from cancer. She's terrified for me, and while I'm kinda worried too, I just don't feel like this is the end. I don't know how well I'm going to fight through this, especially if my anxiety keeps me from eating before the chemo makes me nauseous all the time," Molly said, pushing her food away with a hint of anger. She looked up to Rattles, "I know I'm going to get through this somehow, but I know I can't lie to myself once things go too far. I'll have to make plans for James and how I want to go. That's the part the makes me sick and makes me want to fight. That's the part I'm reacting to, yet some people don't realize there's a fight. They think this is a death sentence when it's not."

"I never once thought it was a death sentence," Rattles said, cracking a smile, "You were the toughest girl I ever met for so long. Now I know my wife, and you know what I like about her? She punched my arm when we met, just like you did all those years ago. I know what kind of spirit you have. Remember, I was there for you when your mother was killed, and the only reason I didn't go to the trial was because of school."

"That's the only reason I didn't go," Molly murmured, "and I had to work so I could get a place for James and me."

"See, you're a fighter even in the worst possible situation, and I know that. That's what I always loved about you. See, Binky and I could never admit how much we liked you. We opened up to each other one night in high school. I'd nabbed a six-pack from a guy's house and we were drinking up at Moon's Landing. I know it's usually for couples, but Binky and I knew we could go up there without being disturbed. He started telling me how much he loved you but how scared he was to tell you, and I laughed and told him the same thing. We both loved you, but we agreed it was best to leave you alone. You always hated his belching and my messy hair," Rattles grinned, "I mean, you would've whipped us into shape if we dated, but it would've been rough. We might've lost our friendship too."

"Yeah, we might've," Molly blushed. "I went through phases where I liked you guys too, but I couldn't mess that up. We were teenagers then, our hormones making tsunamis in our stomachs. I couldn't let those tsunamis take out my best friends because I am pretty hard on guys. And I don't date now because I see no point, especially now," Molly sighed. "I need friends, not lovers. Friends take care of each other no matter what, but lovers could leave over the stupidest things. I had a guy dump me once for asking for his jacket. The joke was on him. I wasn't even cold. I just wanted to test him, and I was right," she smiled. "I never had to test you or Binky or Slink, any of us, because I knew you'd be there for me. And if I knew where Binky was, I'd call him."

"Same here," Rattles agreed. "Maybe we should visit his mom one day. I'm friends with her online."

"So am I," Molly nodded. "Let's invite ourselves to dinner sometime to see what she says."

Rattles agreed before tossing his trash, or attempting to. His wadded burger wrapper bounced off, and Molly shot him a look. He threw it away without thinking, then he asked what she needed. She wanted a nap so he left her alone. He drove home and thought about what he needed to do at home. His wife asked about the dishes three days ago, so he walked into the kitchen. The dishes were done, but a wadded up burger wrapper was still on the floor by the trashcan. He picked it up and tossed it in the air a few times, catching it each time. He put it in the trash and pulled out his phone. He told his wife he'd do better. She was still pissed about him not helping out, but he knew his words had merit. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Molly could lose her fight, and he needed a way to keep her spirit alive. He didn't want to think like that, but he knew it was a possibility, and so did she.

Prunella got a call the day after her interview at the car dealership letting her knew she'd gotten the job. So the day after that, she secretly brought in a stack of ready-to-fold boxes. When the office cleared out that night, she packed up her office and carried everything out to her car. On her keyboard was a legal pad covered in notes about her responsibilities. There were pages and pages of procedures and passwords, things her coworkers would need to know about the position. She'd spent the day writing it down, but there was one last thing she needed to do.

As she sat in her driver's seat ready to go, she called the district supervisor, her boss. After seven rings and two attempts, she answered with a worried tone. Prunella assured her things were fine, for the most part. She dropped the news like an atomic bomb—I won't be coming back to work and you're on your own.

The woman immediately tried getting Prunella to stay, but she wouldn't hear it. In fact, she hung up the phone, turning it off as soon as she could and tossing it into the backseat, where it bounced off a headrest and landed on top of a stack of books she'd brought with her from home. Tonight they'd go back on her bookshelf along with her other trinkets, and anything she no longer wanted would go in the trash. It was time for a completely new start, and she didn't need to bring useless things with her despite getting a new desk at the dealership.

After a dinner of a personal pizza from a local pizzeria, Prunella spent her night doing as she planned, a process that took an hour total. Three of her boxes remained packed with paperwork, and she pushed them to the back of her closet to collect dust. Then she got online, where her email lit up with desperate pleas from her now former boss. News had spread to the other employees as well, as they were also desperately seeking her out on social media. She ignored them all, moving over to YouTube and watching several funny videos before finally deciding to go to bed.

She knew her decision was rash and nonsensical, but Prunella felt in her heart she had to do it. She needed a new job and a new start, and she doubted her new position would have the stress her old job had. No, she'd be free now, and she hoped she could finally sleep soundly at night without fear of, well, anything. That would get her symptoms to subside without medical intervention, at least that was her hope. She doubted a new job could erase any mental illness she may or may not be developing, but it was an attempt, a way to keep her from turning out like her mother and sister.

Marina found Anthony in the teacher's lounge by himself early the next morning. She could tell he was making coffee from where his sounds were coming from, and she knew he was trying to speed up because his stirring was wild and caused him to splash his hand, making him wince in pain.

"Anthony, can we talk? Please?" Marina asked. Anthony stopped stirring and sighed. He owed her a chance to say something, so Marina took it, "I need to explain something to you, something about me that caused me to react the way I did to your offer."

"It was a good offer, but I take you're still not considering it?" Anthony questioned defensively.

"No, but only because I want to see if this place has a chance. If I said anything about your father, you need to know something about me. I only know one other person in his tax bracket," Marina said tactfully, hoping she was saying things as well as she could, "I grew up with a girl who went to Lakewood Elementary, Grebe Middle, and Elwood City High, and she introduced me to another girl that went to those schools, Muffy Crosswire, Ed Crosswire's daughter," Marina said, exhaling, "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"You've only been around the kind of disgusting rich guys you see on television that are actually real?" Anthony guessed. Marina nodded. Anthony shifted his stance, "That makes sense. People know my father, so I thought you would know him too and be proud of the offer. I realize now that you wouldn't know him, not if you—Well it doesn't matter," he said, looking up, "I'm the one who's been an ass here, and I should be apologizing to you. It's really not an attack on his character to reject the job, even if it came out that way at first. And I wondered what you were up to. You're not applying to jobs like the others or telling your students strange things."

"No, because I'm talking with a grant writing friend of mine who's trying to help save this place. But there's a problem."

"What would that be?" Anthony inquired.

"If we get the money, it might be too late. Grants take a while to process and award, and the school could be gone by then, so there'd be no one to get the money to. She was wondering what private buyers had gone after the place previously, and that's how I heard about you again. Your father tried to buy this place," Marina said.

Anthony nodded, "He did, but he was rejected with the force of an army, a unanimous decision by a rigid Board of Directors that wanted far more money than he was willing to offer up for this place."

"I think he should try again now that things are a little different," Marina offered. "I want to help too, if I can. I mean, the grants could still be his if he needs them."

"He might need them," Anthony nodded, "and that could help him raise the price. Look, how would you like to discuss the matter with him over dinner? I can pick you up and take you over to his house or something, then we can talk business."

Marina smiled, glad that her apology had gone so smoothly, "That sounds great. I usually eat around six most nights. Just call me ahead of time. I'll get you my number later."

He agreed, and the two parted ways as their day began. Both felt better now that the air was clear, but they both needed to handle business now. Determination burned within them as they mentally prepared themselves for the battle ahead.

While she wasn't surprised to see her daughter's car in the garage, she was surprised to see the key on the worktable. She knew then exactly what had happened, but a walk upstairs didn't quite complete the story she had in her head. She realized her daughter was gone, but she thought she had taken her things with her. The house was entirely untouched, and that worried her.

Carla checked the phone and realized no one had called, so she began looking around the house again for signs of her daughter. She tried to remember where she said she'd gone, but all she told her mother was that she was meeting a friend for lunch. Carla didn't think anything of it. Now that she was home, they'd seen plenty of people they knew around town, and she'd been talking to people online. She could've even met with one of her new coworkers in an attempt to get to know each other before Jenna got to work.

She thought over the possibilities, but her maternal instinct told her to check her daughter's computer to find out exactly who she was planning to meet for lunch. She wiggled the mouse and the screen came to life without a password. Carla was a little surprised that her daughter wasn't more secretive, but she was grateful for the lucky break. She pulled up her internet and found her last conversation on Facebook via private message.

'I'm ready when you are,' she wrote.

Carla looked at the identity and her stomach hit the floor. Her daughter was talking with Frank, her ex, and had agreed to meet with him. She backtracked through the conversation and realized he was taking her to see a house before their lunch date, his house, in the Elwood City area. He wanted to start a new life with her and the baby if she'd let him, and while Jenna seemed closed at first, providing only one- or two-word responses, soon their messages were longer and more endearing, signs that she was willing to go back to him despite what she described as an abusive situation.

Carla was sick. She had no idea where this house was, where Jenna had gone for lunch, or anything except that she'd met him elsewhere, a parking lot near the house that Jenna often used to meet up with friends before road trips, at least back during high school. Carla thought of going there to find out if anyone saw her daughter with Frank, but she knew it would be a fruitless effort. Her daughter was gone on her own accord, and despite the sinking feeling in her gut that her daughter was being mistreated again, without an address, she could do nothing, and neither could the police.

Carla went downstairs and looked out the front window, hoping to see her daughter come home. She would see no such thing and she knew it, but that's not why tears started to fall down her cheeks. She remembered the baby, whose gender they wanted to wait for. Jenna wanted to make up a name on the spot as soon as she met her new child, and she wanted so much for them. Because of her stupid decision to go back to Frank, Carla knew she'd never meet that child, if it even made it into the world. She'd seen plenty of movies and television shows to know this was the worst possible scenario, but like so many of those victims' families, she was completely helpless.

A/N: So I decided to add in Mrs. Morgan, who I've named Carla just because, to the piece so we can see things from her perspective while Jenna is away. Because these chapters are already quite long, I'll try to keep add-ins like this at a minimum, but we'll see how things go in the future.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

David was surprised to find his wife and mother sitting together in the kitchen when he got home. He checked the clock over the cooktop and discovered it was five-thirty, which meant the girls should be home. He could sense what this conversation would be about, and he knew he didn't want the girls to hear what was about to go down.

"The girls are out with friends tonight, so we're alone," Thora said as if reading his mind. David exhaled as he put his things down on the counter. He looked up to his mother who shook her head firmly, "Don't give me that look, David. We already had this discussion before, and now we're coming to you in one final push to get you to open your eyes."

"My eyes are open. It's you two who have no idea what I'm going through!" David spat.

Jane shook her head, "No, if you were actually in the pain you say you are, your doctors would get you the medication, and they would have evidence as to why you need it. Stealing from me and your mother proves it's the medication, not the pain, that motivates you."

"You're dead wrong," David countered.

Thora shrugged, "Either way, we're both tired of this song and dance. We've done our research, and you have two options. There is a treatment facility here in Elwood City that has agreed to take you for thirty days for the first phase of their program. You'll stay there and get sober, learn how to manage your problem, and learn other ways to control your pain. After thirty days, you can stay or you can return home for out-patient treatments.

"Your second option is simple. You refuse the first option, and I invite my friend from the police department over here for dinner and present him with the evidence I've gathered against you. He and I already discussed the problem, without personal details, and he said you'd probably get about ten years behind bars, and because that is a very public option, the entire town, plus your girls, will find out about your problem. DW is troubled enough, and Kate is at a very fragile age, and while Arthur has moved out and gotten his own life, I'm sure he'd be equally devastated to read about his father in the local paper," Thora trailed off.

David shook his head, "I don't understand why we have to do any of this. I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine, and doing anything at all will tip off the kids."

Thora reached below the table and pulled something from her purse. She slapped it down on the table, a pair of brochures and a white envelope, "We talked about this before, a wedding job complete with more possible work in one of the most beautiful places in the world. We'll tell them you decided to stay when you discovered work there, and I'm sure the girls will believe. Besides, you can write letters, which we can give to them without showing them the local postmark."

Jane nodded, "They said you can write as many letters as you want, which means as much contact as you want. We can throw in some postcards for effect if you'd like, but no one would have to know your business except the people you tell yourself."

David shook his head again before running his fingers through his hair. He knew he was trapped, that the women in his life meant business. He felt attacked, but part of him knew they were making as much sense as they could considering his problems.

"And there's no way out of the criminal charges once you file them?" David asked in a low voice.

Thora sighed with a throaty grunt, "What do you think, David? Those ten years are with a plea deal, but you can say you're not guilty and fight the charges. That could put you away for twenty years, maybe longer, and it would be even more public. You need to pick the first option. You need to go into treatment."

"Do I have a day to think about it?" David asked.

Jane shook her head slowly, "You either go to treatment or go to jail tonight, no exceptions. We already told the girls we had business to take care of, so we'll pick them up from their friends' houses later. What we tell them when we get home and you're not here is up to you. Treatment, aka a vacation job, or jail, aka the whole world will know your problems and how bad they are."

David knew this was it. He had to make a decision, and he knew he had to seek treatment. Within moments of his decision, Thora was driving him across town. The building was located in a gated office complex only accessible through a locked gate. No one would know he was there unless someone told them, and he knew they weren't going to do that, or he hoped they wouldn't.

After doing some preliminary paperwork together, David was soon taken back without his wife and mother. After he disappeared, the ladies made sure they had everything completed, then they went two separate ways. Jane went to get the girls while Thora went to get dinner. When they met up at home, they told the girls they took David to the airport to work a wedding over the weekend in the Bahamas. The girls were so happy for their father, and despite the lack of talk surrounding the work, they didn't notice. Dinner went as usual, and soon the girls were in their rooms working on homework.

Before leaving for the night, Thora assured Jane that things would work out now that they had taken action. David would get what he needed, and whether or not it worked was up to him, but this first step would be the hardest. By the time they figured out if it worked or not, Kate's surgery would be done and she'd be off the pain pills he felt he so desperately needed. DW would be wherever she was going, and Thora told Jane to focus on that. Jane agreed, but she hated her circumstances. Why did her life have to be so difficult?

Three days after Samantha's sudden walkout and bombshell, the charges were filed. Thornton was arrested in the office for raping her, and the news story broke on local social media outlets, spreading like an uncontrollable virus. The women around the office exchanged glances as phone calls started pouring in about the situation. Things were worse, a lot worse, and all of them were worried about the future.

Shortly before five o'clock, a meeting was called for every employee. Despite how close it was to quitting time, everyone filed into the largest boardroom in the meeting and took seats in silence, many of them with their bags in-hand. A few minutes later, the company's head bosses filed into the room and settled at the front. There was no time for chairs, so the six of them stood and looked over the group.

"We want to tell you about the criminal charges pending against Thornton Markus. The charges were filed by an employee who says the attack happened while she was here on the job," the CEO began. After scanning the room, he shook his head, "I can tell by the lack of shocked reactions that the word spread before this charges were announced. That is why we wanted to speak with all of you. Many of us feel this is a fruitless witch hunt by a scorned woman, but we understand the seriousness of these charges, and we want to assure all of you that we are taking this matter seriously."

Another associate stepped forward and accepted the microphone, "We want to conduct individual interviews with each worker throughout the week, and by 'we,' I mean the local police department. We've invited them in to make sure there are no underlying problems here, and we encourage all of you to be honest with these investigators."

Francine heard this and drowned out the rest of the assembly. As soon as it was adjourned, she and the others met in the parking lot and agreed to head over to a restaurant with a private room so they could discuss the matter. Once their food arrived and the doors were closed, the women got down to business with Francine leading the pack:

"We need to tell those investigators everything and let them spread the word to our superiors. If they can see the hidden problem, they won't think Samantha is some lone wolf acting alone to take down her boss," Francine said firmly.

"Do you think she did it for all of us?" one asked. Others argued with her, and a central conclusion was reached: Samantha was acting on her own behalf, not theirs.

Francine sighed, "Look, I know she probably did the one thing she thought would work in her favor. Depending on how this goes, she could have charges brought against her and be the one behind bars instead of Thornton. She probably knew that, but she had to do something to save herself. Taking the passive route like we've done has helped no one. We need to act, and these interviews give us that opportunity."

"What if they're in there with the cops?" another coworker asked. Everyone was stunned by the question at first. Why would they be involved with police interviews? But then the fear spread, and they all realized this could be a huge problem.

Francine came up with a way to solve it, "Even if they're in the room, we'll still be able to get contact information for the detectives involved. We can go to them on our own after hours or send them letters. We'll get our stories told."

"But will it even work? I feel like we should all just start looking for other jobs, if there are any around here," another sighed with tears in her eyes.

Francine knew she had a point. She was worried about everything hitting the fan and all of them being out of work. As Samantha discovered first, there was limited work available for them in the area, and Francine was not pleased with idea of giving up what she once thought was her dream job. She wanted to fight, but she knew the consequences, as did everyone else.

But they agreed they had to try. They would tell their story, and if there were officials from the company with the detectives, they had a backup plan to get their stories told. Then they just had to wait, and hopefully the word would spread through the executives, letting them know the man they trusted with their company was as bad as they came.

Fern was reading her work after her shift, or at least she was attempting to. Within moments of starting, her mother barged into the house on her cellphone. There was a major problem with one of her properties, and judging by the sounds coming from the living room, it was a nuclear meltdown issue with an important client. After a few more minutes of yelling, Fern finally found out what she needed to know: Anita's new property in Metropolis had fallen apart, or the deal had. Something was wrong, but Fern's frustration with all the yelling after her shift drove her over the edge.

After sending a message, Alex confirmed she could come over and read in his house. Fern was thankful as she gathered her things. She moved her piece over to a flashdrive and grabbed her laptop. Then she snuck out through the back door, exiting the yard through a side gate, and rushed away from the loud home. She practically ran the few blocks to Alex's house, and when she arrived, he seemed shock to see her so soon:

"That bad, huh?" he grinned, letting her in and leading her up the stairs.

"Yeah, something's up with Mrs. Powers' new property, I guess. I was trying to read, but of course I couldn't. It's so hard being around her sometimes, and it's been so much worse lately. I don't know what's up with her," Fern said. Once in Alex's room, she sank into a beanbag chair and he returned to his workstation.

"Well, all I can tell you is that things are getting to her. Your mom has always been in control, and I think that's why she uses me. I take her money, do the work, then I'm hands off from there. I don't care what she does with my designs, and she appreciates that. The problem is that not only am I getting tired of her doing this to her clients, others notice and they're tired of it too," Alex said, turning around, "And I've been online. I really hope she hasn't looked because people are talking about your book, and none of it is good."

"They've figured it out?" Fern asked.

Alex nodded with a smile on his lips, "Our reviews planted the seeds of doubt, but from what people are saying now, they felt things were off from the get-go. You've been putting out your work for years now. I still remember you reading stories back during out Lakewood days, and people know your style. You wouldn't suddenly change that much about yourself."

"I'm glad people are seeing it that way, but I don't know what to do about it. I can't write at the moment, and my current projects aren't quite ready for publication," Fern whispered, smiling softly, "But it looks good so far, so that's a plus."

"I've thought about it, and I think you should go back after your book companies and let them know about your situation. Let them know how many copies you sold and how many people were dissatisfied because of the editing. If they can get out a better edition, people will buy it. You just need to convince them, and I want to help you," Alex smiled.

Fern shook her head, "I don't know if you should. I mean, you work for my mother. If she finds out you helped me go against her, she'd fire you, probably after screaming at you for hours."

Alex shrugged, "That's a chance I'm willing to take. Now that I'm taking a good look at things, your mother is excessively controlling, the worst in town. I wouldn't be surprised if most of her deals get made because she gives them no other choice, and I'm surprised you're just now seeing it."

Fern shrank into the beanbag chair, "Well, I've really only been focusing on myself and surviving. College wasn't for me and my books weren't selling, so I just focused on getting an okay job and keeping it so I could save money. I want to buy my own house as soon as I can, even if it's one of those tiny houses. I mean, I want out, obviously, but I've been looking only at that goal and nothing else."

"Well it's time to start looking, for both of us. I just used her as a steady income source, and while I never minded putting together her pamphlets and whatnot, I mind her messing up work for other people. I've learned now that all I have to do is approach them and I'll get my clients. I've already looked for jobs from her old clients, promising to keep their original designs pending how they would turn out after printing, and I've gotten hits. I'm currently helping a bakery she practically ruined when she offered to help them with promotions. I'm getting double what she paid me, and they're actually happy with the work this time," he said, looking Fern square in the eyes, "And now it's your turn."

Fern exhaled slowly and shrugged, "I guess it is. I'll get started on the letters, but what about other projects?"

"You can work on those once you fix this one. Send them the letters, then let them come to you. Then you can show them your mom's version, then yours, and you can get through to them. And if they need more, let me know. I'll figure out a way to help you because we need this," Alex said.

Fern smiled. She'd never had this much help from anyone before, legitimate help from someone who could really get things done. She knew she couldn't let him down, so she would do what he said. She just hoped it could work out in her favor.

Sue Ellen took a deep breath as she picked up the phone. She was calling her mother this time, and she was worried about how the call would go. When her mother answered, Sue Ellen let her guide the conversation, but after a few minutes, Sue Ellen knew she needed to ask them the question that Pierre brought up in her mind: Were her parents scared that she was in France surrounded by possible terroristic threats?

Sue Ellen's mother hesitated at first before sighing, "I…I have been worried, as has your father. We watch the news and hear such terrible things, and while we know you're getting a good education in France, we are worried about how things are going to go."

Suddenly her father jumped into the conversation, "I've been trying to tell her to make you come back but she hasn't wanted to yet. I told her we could pay for everything, but she wants you to finish. You don't have much time left."

"I don't," Sue Ellen agreed, "but what if I did come home without finishing? How upset would that make her?"

"I'd be devastated, but if it's for the best, I'll get over my feelings. Do you want us to start helping you get home?" she asked.

Sue Ellen was about to drop the bombshell that she was already home when the call suddenly ended. Sue Ellen looked to her phone and realized she hadn't checked her battery level before starting the call. Her phone was lifeless, and until she charged it to at least ten percent, she wouldn't be able to turn it on again.

She sighed and cursed herself before moving to her computer. She had a free moment so she went online. After glancing through some tweets from her favorite bands and celebrity gossip sources, she realized there was breaking news from her old university. An attack was happening just blocks away and they were asking students to stay in their rooms or whatever they were. Sue Ellen immediately went to a news website and discovered a major shooting was happening there, a shooting that had killed several people.

Instantly Sue Ellen sent her parents an email, "Sorry, my phone went dead. I just heard about the shooting here. I'm fine, and we'll talk about me coming home later."

She sent the email, which relieved her parents. They too had heard about the breaking news, and they were glad to know their daughter was okay. They agreed to talk later about her coming home, but Sue Ellen knew she wanted to do something she didn't think she'd do when she first decided to come home: She was going to tell them in person. She just didn't know when.

Jenna rubbed her belly as she looked up at the bear sticker. She was sick of that sticker after two days, but she had another problem. She was starting to have contractions, and while they were erratic enough to convince her they were just those "false alarm" contractions her mom and doctor told her about, she knew they were a practice for the real thing. Why was this a problem? Frank had been gone for a little over a day.

After throwing in a Costco pack of cheese crackers with peanut butter and a pack of bottled water, Frank told her he was leaving for a few days. He was leaving her in there because he didn't trust her to stay, but Jenna was worried she was going to go into labor before he would come back.

If she did go into labor, she didn't know what she would do. She knew her body would tell her what to do when it was really time, but she didn't have anything to tie off the cord or wrap the baby in. If she had problems, she would die right there on the floor, killing her baby too if Frank didn't come home in time to save it, if he even would.

Jenna was beginning to regret everything she'd ever done, going all the way back to when she met Frank in the first place. He was fine at first, but within a few months, she knew something was up about him. But she was addicted to his attention, to his warm touch, so addicted that she didn't think twice about leaving home to stay with him. He didn't get really mean for a few more months, when he decided it was time they had sex. She wasn't ready but she felt she couldn't say no. Now that she was pregnant with his child, she wished she would've said no from the beginning.

The baby kicked to bring her back to reality. Jenna looked around the room for a way out, something she'd been doing since he put her there. Nothing was sticking out to her, so like before, she could only sit and look at the mostly barren walls, willing her contractions to hold off until Frank was back to release her.

Muffy was about to leave the office for the day when her father called her into his own. They were about the only two left in the building, and he was the cause of that. Muffy had been digging through piles of work for days, and she was beginning to wonder if her father was testing her after hearing Chip's story. Now that she was being called for a private meeting for the first time in a while, she wondered what it would be about.

"Close the door. We might be seemingly alone, but I know there are a few more deliveries coming, otherwise I wouldn't be here," Ed muttered, watching as his daughter shut the door and stood before him. He gestured towards a chair, "Sit down, sit down. You've probably be standing all day."

Muffy was surprised. Normally he could care less how she felt after a day of work, but as she sat, she noticed a handwritten letter laying on top of everything else. Her stomach flipped as she realized what this conversation was going to be about, and she knew he now had two stories, one from the letter and one from his own son.

"Now, it seems we're having an issue that I didn't realize we were having, or some people think we're having a problem. Are you being overworked? Are you being mistreated?" Ed asked. Muffy swallowed but refused to say anything. Ed smiled, "You're my daughter, muffin. You can tell me anything."

"Is this why I'm here, because yes, I do have work to do?" Muffy inquired, trailing off.

Ed sighed, "Let me get to my point then. I know what happened here. You somehow drummed up a date with this man, and now he thinks you're out escorting yourself for money. If he really thinks that about you, you should correct him to protect your reputation."

"But it's the truth," Muffy said flatly. "I was there that night because he was my client. Otherwise I wouldn't have even known about that party. I barely knew who he was until I met him, and once we talked, he broke things down on his own. And for the record, yes, you have worked me like a dog, like some kind of unknown passing through your office. Well I am your daughter, and if I'm not going to be anything more than just some paper pusher to you, then I guess I'll have to find some other way to make a living. I don't care if you like my choices. It's not your life, and you've made that plain in clear since my last semester of college."

Ed was taken aback by his daughter's confession. He thought this was a lie because he believed his son, but hearing the confirmation from his daughter almost made him sick. He even had her explanation, but he was still in a state of disbelief. Why would his daughter lower herself to that level?

"Now if you'll excuse me," Muffy said fiercely, standing up to leave.

"But why? Why would you do something like that?"

"Most of the time I'm just showing people a little compassion, accompanying them places or spending time with them when no one else will. I don't see how that's degrading, especially when I'm getting my life back," Muffy smirked. She started to walk away but stopped and turned around, "And once I find something better than this hellhole, I'll be marching out that door in a heartbeat, and yes, I'll be going online to tell people what a miserable experience I had here. If the daughter of the CEO was treated that badly, do you think all those hot young prospects you want are going to come here? And once your possible clients find out, do you think they'll really choose you to do business with? Think about it, daddy. You really screwed up treating us the way you did and if you haven't figured it out by now, you will figure it out later, and no, you won't like the results."

Muffy marched out before he could respond. While she felt better than she had in weeks, months, maybe even years, she knew there would likely be consequences for what she felt was an outburst of emotions. She needed to tell her father how she felt according to all of the psychology classes she'd taken and all the advice she'd read in magazine articles or self-help books, but she wondered how this would go even if it did feel good.

Ladonna was reading outside to prepare for the following day's classes when an unfamiliar car pulled up the driveway. It wasn't time for another nurse to arrive yet, so Ladonna knew this was one of those unwanted visitors she was worried about. Sure enough, when the car stopped, Beverly got out with a pie, a dish towel on top to keep the bugs from getting to it.

"Hey, Ladonna. I hope you don't mind me dropping by like this. I don't want to go in or anything, but I had this extra pie from last night that I thought you'd want," Beverly smiled, setting it next to Ladonna on the porch. "It's apple, but it's not a traditional recipe. Let me know how you like it."

"I will, thank you," Ladonna nodded.

Beverly shifted, "Well, I'm glad you're about to start out there with me. We start training tomorrow, correct?"

"Yes, tomorrow afternoon," Ladonna replied, "I have classes in the morning, maybe a test or a quiz. They don't always tell you what they're up to, those professors."

Beverly laughed, "Well, I went to culinary school for a little while, so I sorta get it. They were always pretty honest with us, at least most of the time. They would give us open assignments to test our creativity and our overall knowledge of foods and flavor combinations. That's how I figured out I was a pastry chef, not a real chef. I can put together a pie or a cake and it'll taste perfect, but a main dish? They said it was horrible, and I couldn't do all that fine restaurant stuff. I'm into Southern soul food, when you heap them mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans onto a plate next to a piece of fried chicken and call it a day."

"Same here," Ladonna agreed, "but it seems like you've done well without college. I wish I could say the same, but I guess I'll need it, probably a little more than this since I'm not really happy with my degree. I used to think it'd be fun to be a receptionist, but now I don't think I'll enjoy it very much."

"It's tough work, but it's money, more money than I'll be able to pay you right now. Things always work out though, no matter what happens," Beverly said, eying the house as something dropped inside. "I've had experience with this. I had an uncle with dementia for about nine years before he died. Those were long, hard years for my extended family, and that's why I haven't spread your business. I only brought this pie because I can't keep taking them to my momma all the time," Beverly grinned, "I know what you're going through, and I know to leave things be. And I know to tell you it gets better eventually but it takes time and a lot of hard work, but I think you already know that. You Compson kids have always been tough as nails, and that's the only reason I hired you on the spot without legitimate references or a résumé. I know who you are without all that paperwork, and I look forward to working with you."

With that, Beverly waved, got into her car, and left the house. Ladonna took the pie inside, walking past her mother's bedroom to see what was going on. Her mother had knocked everything off her nightstand, but things were okay now and luckily nothing was broken. Ladonna nodded and moved outside, but she was bothered by the incident. She moved into her bedroom and got onto her computer. After a few minutes she was able to pull up the video of the incident. Sure enough, the nurse was trying to help her to the bathroom, but her mother decided to knock everything off the table and fight off this stranger. She ended up in the bathroom herself, the door closed while the nurse waited outside. She cleaned while she waited, and soon her mother returned clean and taken care of. She barely acknowledged the nurse before settling back into bed, picking up a book, and reading as if nothing had even happened.

Ladonna was relieved that nothing had gone wrong, but she was still nervous about not being there despite the cameras and the professionalism Magnolia Springs had exhibited so far. Beverly and her family was right that she needed to move on, and she hoped working with Beverly would help her pull away from home a little further. She needed to find herself, and while she felt guilty for leaving home, she knew she had to while she still could.

Bitzi sipped her soda while she looked the restaurant over. She was meeting up with Tanya after hours to discuss a story they had recently covered that stirred up controversy online. Tanya was the leading investigator behind the information, but with the community's response, Bitzi had already questioned her about her sources. Now they were having dinner together to discuss things further, at least that was their cover. Really they needed to gossip about relationships. Despite Bitzi's desire to stay as far away from Buster's relationship with Palladia as possible, she wanted to know what the girl was saying. And since she and Tanya had lunch together the day before, Bitzi knew she would have information.

When Tanya entered, she placed her order with the waiter, as did Bitzi, before getting down to business. As Bitzi wanted, the conversation was instantly on who she wanted to discuss:

"So I had lunch with Palladia yesterday. She said you really pissed them off by shooting down their engagement, but now she's thinking you're right. She said Buster can be immature at times, and she worries that moving in with him for good will only reveal more problems," Tanya grinned, "I don't think you broke them up, but you certainly made her think."

Bitzi shook her head, "I didn't want to break them up. I struggle to find love myself, and I want the best for both of them, but I had to bring it up. I'm glad they're thinking like real adults now instead of characters in some sort of fairytale."

Tanya laughed, "She admitted to me they were both thinking a little crazy when they talked to you. Getting married all of the sudden is a huge step, especially when you barely know someone. I mean, they just met. I think they should take things slower and really get to know each other, then decide what to do."

"My point exactly," Bitzi nodded, "That's what I wanted to tell them, but I was being truthful when I told them I'm out of the equation. What they do isn't my concern. I have my own issues."

Tanya grinned, "Everyone knows you've got someone staked out, but no one's seen you around town or heard about who you're with. Rumor has it you're dating someone Buster's age at your condo, but since none of us live around there, we don't know who comes and goes from there. I told them you wouldn't, but it's up to you to fix that."

"I would never date someone my son's age, even if they were richer than Heaven," Bitzi said, shaking her head with a grin on her face, "But I don't know if I want to admit things yet. I mean, not to the whole group."

"Well I don't feel the need to tell them anything, so if you want to talk, please, tell me everything you can. Maybe I can help you out. I've tried some questionable ways to date, which is why I just don't really mind being single anymore. I'd rather not fight anymore and fail, you know?"

"I do know, and that's why I tried the whole online dating thing, which was a disaster. But now I think I've found the worst thing of all. I met a guy in a forum and started talking with him in private. Now we're trying to meet, and he says he's got a seminar coming up in Metropolis that I can meet him at, but I just…I've watched that MTV show Catfish, so I know what could be going on. We've never chatted using a webcam or talked on the phone. We only text or type, so who knows who he is? I mean, I searched his name and found real profiles, but what if they're faking it? I feel so sick, and I just know I won't get to see him at any seminar."

"But you care about him?" Tanya asked.

"Of course I do! He's all I think about some days. I've never felt like this, not since high school at least, and I just…part of me knows this could all be a sham, but part of me wonders if I could find love with someone other than the persona if they are faking. Is that crazy?" Bitzi questioned.

Tanya shrugged, "Depends on who they are. If they're some sick-minded teenager, I know you'll head for the hills because we just covered that topic. If they're older but seem decent enough, despite all the lies of course about being someone else, then maybe you can make it work. My advice is to not get your hopes up. I've never been catfished, but I've heard so many stories, and it's not something you should let destroy your life. I think you're handling this with enough skepticism to make it work or to move on depending on how it turns out."

"See, this is the conversation I was hoping for when I finally told someone about my situation. I just really don't want anyone else to find out yet. They might think I'm crazy for falling for someone online like this," Bitzi said, blushing slightly as she heard herself say the words.

Tanya smiled, "Well, I'll tell you a little secret. You know that island wedding we all ended up missing because of how expensive it was to fly there? They met online, and now they have two kids in three years. I mean, Catie was always a little strange, but marrying a guy she met on EHarmony? I never thought I'd see it work, but it did, and they're happy, even though he said he had hair when he didn't and she lied about her age," Tanya winked.

Bitzi smiled as they food arrived. With their personal conversation over, they did discuss the controversy behind Tanya's story. Apparently social media was behind the extra rumors and biased opinions, and Bitzi accepted the situation. They finished their dinner happily, and when Bitzi went home, she was content with her situation, no matter how it would eventually turn out.

Belinda was happy with her new position. Her patients were wonderful, and her workplace was far more organized than she'd ever had at the hospital. Everything was exactly how she would want it, and she felt more energized than she'd ever felt when she finished her shifts, and she was actually eager to go back the next morning. She was enjoying picking up her daughter from school and spending more time with her husband, and life seemed great.

But Belinda kept replaying her conversation with Shayna in her head. She had no idea things at the hospital were that awful despite the rumors she'd heard in the last few years. She knew the hospital was in trouble because they were losing money and patients, but a merger and complete shakeup was not something anyone could predict. Worst of all, Belinda filled the last available spot in her new job. She wouldn't be able to help anyone, even her good friend Shayna, using her new position.

As she considered the situation, she decided she needed to just do what she said and talk to Anita at the ice cream shop. So that Saturday when she was off, she stopped by the shop. She found Anita in her office working the books, and judging by the lines on her forehead, she was very stressed. She let Belinda speak first, but then she told Belinda the bad news—her new Metropolis location was in limbo, and she blamed Doria Walters for the problem.

"Wow, so many things are going wrong right now," Belinda whispered, shaking her head.

Anita squinted, "What else is there? That sounded heavy."

"Yeah, quite heavy," Belinda sighed, shaking her head again as she sank into a chair, "I called an old coworker of mine to see how things were going at the hospital. It's awful. They're about to merge, and when they do, they're clearing out everyone. I thought I could get her a spot at my new job, but they already have plenty of people without me even being there. I can't help them, and I'm petrified for them."

"Whoa, that is quite the problem. A merger? I've seen nothing about this in the newspaper. I take it's a secret merger?" Anita questioned. Belinda nodded, and Anita shook her head, "I can't believe this. You need to break that story to the newspaper. I'm sure if Bitzi's still there, she'll hear you out, and she'll keep your identity a secret. I'm tempted to go to her myself about Doria Walters. I thought she was such a nice woman, but she tried to change my ideas, and now I think she's behind me losing this property. I called the seller myself and discovered she didn't submit some of the paperwork he asked for. And have you heard about her daughter's book?"

"No, Fern wrote a book?" Belinda asked.

"Yeah, and I think you should get a copy to see what she did. That's not Fern's work. She did whatever she wanted, and I'm sure the cover was altered because it doesn't make any sense either. I think she has control problems, and I'm tempted to change realtors and blow the whistle on her. I mean, I've found online reviews for Fern's book calling her out, but no one from her realty side of things has said anything."

"I guess you could be the first. Bitzi should hear us out if we can get an appointment with her," Belinda said, standing up with a sigh, "Well, I didn't expect this, just as you didn't expect the stuff with the hospital. I'll come by regularly so we can keep in touch. I don't really have much time to get on the computer lately, so in-person should be enough. I'll add you if you add me though," Belinda smiled. Anita nodded, and after serving her with a cup of chocolate ice cream with whipped cream on top. Belinda decided to take it with her, namely so she could sit alone in her car and take things in.

Anita made some Hamburger Helper and brought a bowl to her computer. She pulled up Facebook, and after sending a request to Belinda Barnes, she checked her pending connections. Lydia Fox was no longer on the list, giving Anita access to her page. She was working at a children's museum in Metropolis in a room made especially to give able-bodied children the experience of being disabled. Anita was proud of her work, and she was eager to start a conversation with her.

Lydia was online, and after a few light messages about typical things, most importantly her job, Anita decided to directly ask her about her son and what happened. After a few minutes of Anita eating and waiting, Lydia finally responded with a long answer:

"I have no idea what happened with him. We hung out often, then he left for graduate school. Things were really good at first, but suddenly he stopped talking to everyone. I found out somehow that he'd left school, but I have no idea where he went. All I know is that he's not online anymore, and no one has talked to him in ages. It scares me because we were really close. I thought he was going to ask me out before he left, or maybe try to maintain a relationship so we could get together when he came back, but now that he's missing, I don't know what's happening. I'm really worried about him, so anything you can tell me would be awesome."

Anita was worried by her response. If Alan and Lydia were that close, why would he depart from her so quickly? Add on that he never talked about her, and Anita knew there was probably something to their relationship. He'd learned from experience not to let his feelings show or Anita and James would pick at him, so whenever he got serious about a girl, he'd never talk about her or let on that he even knew her.

Anita told Lydia everything she could about Alan, namely where he was and what he was doing, and she too ended with a request: help her figure out why he'd suddenly leave like that.

Almost an hour later, Lydia responded, "I think I know what happened. About a year ago, someone told everyone I killed myself. In reality I'd had surgery and disappeared for a while, so it was a few months before I could fix things. When I tried to contact Alan, he'd vanished too. I wonder if he thinks I really did kill myself and he's grieving."

Anita's face lit up despite the grim story. She quickly replied, "I think you're onto something. The next time I talk to him, I'll ask him about you and try to broach the subject easily. Maybe there's something to this theory of yours."

Lydia thanked her, and with that settled, Anita decided to curl up in bed with a book. As she got settled, her phone buzzed. She checked it and found a message from her husband's lawyer. James's hearing was moved up for the next morning, and he wanted her to be there. Anita decided she should go, but she wouldn't necessarily be on her husband's side. He needed help, more help than she could provide, namely because she knew if he didn't stop, he'd probably kill someone. Taking away his stash wasn't enough, so maybe jail time and rehab would be.

Molly struggled to get through her day. She felt zapped of energy, yet she had morning classes and an afternoon of work. She tried to remain as chipper as possible, but once she got home, all she wanted to do was go to bed. She wasn't even hungry; she was just as exhausted as she could be.

Around seven, James came home with a few pizzas from work. He said they closed early so the owner could go to a skate competition a few hours away, and they'd had pizza for lunch, so he let him take them home. He offered a slice to Molly, who attempted to eat some of the cheese, but a strange aftertaste made her pull away. She did stay on the couch with her brother, who popped in a DVD of his favorite show. He tried to have Molly pick an episode, but she wasn't even interested. She covered herself with a soft blanket and tried to dose.

But as she sat there, she felt his eyes on her, and she could sense the worry in his glances. She decided to make an attempt to look chipper, so she started watching the show, and she would even laugh with him despite how horrible she felt. When the episode was over, James offered a second one, but Molly suggested they go to bed early for once so they could have more energy. James accepted, but she could tell he was still worried.

As she lay in bed trying to go to sleep, she heard James enter the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched his sister closely. Molly looked up and noticed tears in his eyes.

"James, the chemo is going to make me feel awful, but it doesn't mean I won't wake up in the morning. I might feel run-down, and I might not have much energy, but I'm okay, I promise. Things have to get worse before they get better," Molly smiled.

"It just looks so bad," James whimpered.

"I know it does, and it doesn't feel that good either. But we're going to get through this, I promise you," Molly smiled, welcoming him into her bed. He'd only slept with her once before, the night they got the news about their mother. He stayed with her a few weeks before he felt safe enough to go back to his own bed, but Molly knew this was different. James needed to be near his sister, and he needed to feel she was still alive, even if she felt like twice warmed over leftovers shoved in the back of the fridge.

Prunella started her job at the dealership with paperwork. After getting a short tour of the establishment, she was given paperwork to look over and put into their computer system. It was easy work, far below her education level, but Prunella knew it was important work. Best of all, the weight of the world wasn't on her shoulders. People were demanding things of her while she worked, and she found herself done with the first stack of paperwork within a few hours.

When she asked for more work, she found that there was none, so Prunella spent time working on her desk, trying to see what she wanted to do with the small space. Others had figurines from their favorite cartoon characters, movies, or books, and a few even had small movie posters framed on the side of their cubicles. An older woman had a few old photographs and several small paintings, and another older man had a collection of antique keys around his workspace.

Prunella used a legal pad to jot down ideas. When she was stuck, she'd look out to the passing cars, a light smile on her face. She hadn't had an office with legitimate windows in a long time, ever really, and she was glad to be able to see the outside world again.

Despite the day being boring in the end, Prunella was happy for the change, even if her old job continued to bug her about coming back. She refused to respond to them. She hadn't taken any keys or important documents, only her personal things, and she'd left them written instructions on the most important things she did in a day. They didn't need her anymore.

And the lack of stress helped her sleep a little more soundly, and Prunella felt her mind calm back to a level she felt was normal. She was grateful for this, namely because Rubella's time at the rehab home was short lived. She had a violent outburst that confirmed the medication was not working the way it should, and she was back in the hospital for her safety and the safety of others. Dr. Mano sounded confident he could work things out, but Prunella was deeply worried for her sister. She was in trouble because of her mental illness, and Prunella did not want to end up in her situation.

As she warmed up some leftovers and settled in to watch television, Prunella felt like life was good. She could forget about her hallucinations and her sister's troubles because she knew she'd be okay. She just had to keep herself in check, and if she got the urge to uproot herself again, she knew she'd be able to without many consequences. Her pay was similar, so she wasn't at risk of running out of money before all her bills were paid. Life was fine, and Prunella was happy.

With Anthony back on her side, Marina was able to feel better about her mission, for the most part. As she prepared for dinner with Anthony's father, she wondered what she was even doing. She was about to attempt to coerce a man into attempting another deal with a company that seemed to want nothing to do with him, and worst of all, she was paired with his son to do so. Marina felt as if she was being overly manipulative, but deep down she knew this was the best option. Mary was right—if they didn't find another buyer or if the grants came in too late, all of their work would be in vain.

Anthony picked her up when he said he was, and soon she was at a house she could tell was huge. Her footsteps echoed, but they took a moment to get back to her, and unlike most houses, she could take a wide sweep with her cane without touching anything. She wished she could see the place she was in, but seeing that they were in a sitting room first, then a dining room with servants bringing in the food, she knew this was probably the most lavish house she'd ever been inside, and she had been to Muffy's house a few times.

After dinner, the three of them retired to a den Anthony's father used as an office. His father chewed a cigar as Anthony explained the situation to his father. He then turned to Marina to explain her work with Mary:

"I've been working with a friend of mine who writes grants. The last time we spoke, she warned me that our work might not pay off. If the school closed before the grants can pay off, if we even get them in the first place, the school will not be able to benefit. We're aware that you tried to acquire the school in the past, but now we're hoping you can try again. The owners have confronted the fact that the school has little chance of surviving much longer, and you've wanted to expand into this market," Marina explained, smiling softly, "And I've done research on you with Mary's help. I think you'd be the perfect new owner because you actually care about the children. I just hope people can look past your wealth to see the man there. Many of these people are like me in that they only have experience with rich people like Ed Crosswire—"

"Who is a terrible example," Anthony's father agreed. "Well, I wouldn't mind reconsidering, but I don't think I can afford their prices. I doubt they're going to go down, and I only wanted to spend a fixed amount acquiring the property so that I could afford the changes and renovations I'd want to make."

"We were hoping that these grants could benefit you instead," Anthony interjected, "Because they'd be going to the school for whatever uses Mary specifies in her grant, you could use that money instead of your own, making it easier to spend a little more money acquiring the place."

"But these grants are for specific purposes, and they need to match my desires if I'd be willing to use them for my version of the school," Anthony's father said.

Marina nodded, "I understand that, and I'd like to have meetings with you and Mary to get things settled. Because Anthony and I work there on a regular basis, we can help tweak the ideas to work best for the children."

"I like that idea, I really do," Anthony's father nodded. "It sounds like we have a deal. Once I have a meeting with this Mary person to discuss the numbers, then I'll reapproach the school to see what I can do. Then we fight, because I doubt there will be much of a wait. These guys were adamant before. Maybe this time they'll be a little less likely to hold on."

Marina left the house confident that her plan was working, and the ride back with Anthony felt far more comfortable than she thought. She enjoyed the thought of spending more time with him and his family, though she couldn't understand why.

Carla had a hard time convincing her husband that they couldn't just go to the police about their daughter. Jenna left on their own accord to a place they weren't sure the address of, and while she likely needed help, there was nothing they could do. This caused a struggle to form, one they kept silently to themselves. Just like before Jenna's return, the house took on a level of silence usually only found at cemeteries. Neither of them had anything to say about anything, and they tried to make as little noise as possible as they went about their day so as not to disturb the other's thoughts.

Both of Jenna's parents found themselves wandering into the nursery. While they had put together a crib and placed a rocking chair in the corner of the room, most of the items were still in boxes or bags, even the clothes they'd bought for the baby. Carla put them away three days later, then she organized the diapers in the closet. Her husband silently built the changing table in the middle of the night, placing it under the window so the baby could look up and see the world.

They didn't say it, but they both felt as if that baby was gone forever. They doubted Jenna would give it up, and because of what she'd said about Frank, they half expected both of them to die in his hands. They hated admitting these feelings, but they had no choice but to confront them. Days passed with no signs of Jenna or Frank, and the only thing they could do was go in and out of the nursery, slowly piecing it together despite their theory that no child would ever get to use it.

On the fifth day, Carla knew she had to keep going. She went to work like normal, then she ran by the grocery store to get things for dinner. She ran into her husband there who had the same plan. They decided to flip a coin when they got home to see who would cook. Carla won, so she put together a homemade lasagna with a tossed salad and a bottle of red wine. The next night her husband prepared burgers on their backyard grill.

Despite their hard feelings, they had no choice. Their hearts were heavy, but they needed to work. They needed to live their lives, and while they hated that they were seemingly ignoring their only daughter and her unborn child, they knew they were only doing this because of her own actions. They felt Frank had coerced her away, but it was Jenna who left. They had to accept that fact, even if it was hard to swallow.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Jane was working in the kitchen when DW first got up. She was much earlier than usual for a Saturday morning, and Jane wondered why she would want to give up a few hours more of sleep. She knew something must be bothering her, but she knew from experience to say nothing to her until DW decided to speak on her own.

"I don't believe you about Dad," DW whispered, rubbing her eyes before looking up to her mother, "He would've said more about the trip. And we know those people. We could've gone to that wedding too."

"Your grandmother knows those people, not us, and the airfare was quite expensive. Your dad's was paid for by the groom's family, otherwise he would've been stuck here too," Jane explained.

DW shook her head, "He would've said more beforehand even if we couldn't go. He and I used to talk in the mornings, a while ago, but he would've said something. I bet that wedding's been in the works for a year. He would've told me if they were considering him. No, I think you're lying. I think he went somewhere else, somewhere bad."

"He's working, DW. That's all I can tell you. Maybe he wasn't the first choice. Maybe the first chef or company had to pull out. Things change often in the world," Jane smiled, hoping she could smooth over the cracks DW kept finding in her lie.

DW shook her head again, "Dad needed help. He asked me about dealers at school, drug dealers. Why would he ask me about something like that? Well, I figured it out. He wasn't testing me to see if I was doing drugs. He wanted drugs himself, but what kind of drugs? Pain killers? Is that why he went away, Mom? Painkillers?" DW asked, grilling her mother.

Jane shook her head this time, "I don't know what you're talking about, and you should've told me he was asking you weird questions. I was about to go through your room, but now I know I won't have to," Jane smiled.

"Why would you anyway? It's my room," DW said defensively.

Jane smiled, "My house, my rules, and since you rarely tell me what's going on with you, I was beginning to wonder. Your plans about college are strange. You never showed much interest before, and now you want to move out as soon as possible to go to school? I just have my doubts that you're telling me everything. I understand that you don't necessarily want me in every aspect of your life, but while you're still here, you're my daughter, and it's my job to protect you."

"I don't know what I'll do," DW admitted. "I thought about leaving, but now I'm thinking about staying. I only went over to that girl's house because you told us to go somewhere after school. I figured that would be better than wandering the mall alone, so I took up her invitation. She's a nice girl with a good family. I was about to have dinner with them when you called to say you were on her way."

"And she helped change your mind?"

"Well, yeah. Mom, all my friends left last year. I've had no one for so long, and I thought she was only inviting me over to mess with me. But she's really nice, and now I think we could hang out more over the summer. She told me where she's applying for jobs so we could apply together. I think it'd be great," DW smiled.

"I'm happy for you if that's what you decide. It's okay to change your mind a little when you're young. And I knew about your friends. Maybe you should've tried to get to know those younger kids a little sooner so the transition wouldn't be as bad, but that was the past. I don't think you realized things were going to change, did you?" Jane asked.

DW muttered, "No, of course I didn't. I never met anyone that got held back, just me. Well, Arthur said Binky got held back, and Brain had to repeat kindergarten, but those were his friends and his classmates. We never had that issue, at least until me. No one knew at first, but then a few of them asked about graduation plans, and then they figured it out. They stopped talking to me before they left. They just didn't know what to say to me."

Jane nodded, "That's understandable if no one had been through that. They also didn't want to make you jealous, I'm sure. And if you recall, some of them had other problems, remember?"

"Yeah, that guy killed Mrs. MacDonald so James stopped talking to everyone for a while," DW whispered, curling her arms around herself, "People were scared to talk to him for a while so they wouldn't upset him. I guess they did do the same for me, but I don't know why these younger kids never talked to me. Except this one girl, and it kinda bothers me."

"Why does it bother you?"

"I told her about my favorite band, so she got a CD, and she's always inviting me over to her house or out to the movies. I've resisted because she's a little scary. I've never had someone want to be my friend this badly before. She might have something else in mind, like a relationship, and I just don't like girls."

Jane turned to face her daughter, "Well, I think you should see what she's like before you jump to those kind of conclusions. I met a girl at college like that who bought posters for my favorite movies and made me a mixtape cassette, if you even know what that is," Jane grinned. Jane shrugged, "It turns out she just really wanted a best friend. She was new to the area and really wanted a friend. In the end we broke apart because she really hated everything I loved, but that's just how it goes. I'd love to help you through more situations like this, by the way. I know you've always been a little closer with your father, but maybe you should try talking to me sometimes. I've been where you are before, so maybe I can help you."

"I'll think about it," DW muttered, "but I still don't believe you about him, and I wish you wouldn't have changed the subject," she growled, darting back upstairs and slamming the door. Jane shrugged as she got back to work. At least her plan worked, for now.

Francine wasn't surprised when an older detective asked her into a small office a floor down. She took the stairs and soon found herself in a room with the detective, a police office, and an official from Human Resources. Francine wasn't really surprised to find a representative of the company in the room, but she did wish the woman would disappear.

"I want to start with your name," the older detective said, pointing a microphone towards her. It was attached to a laptop computer that was recording the information.

"My name is Francine Frensky," she said, looking back and forth between the officers.

Instead of them speaking next, the representative asked the next question, "Please state your relationship with Thornton."

Francine eyed her closely, "Why are you asking the questions? Better yet, why are you even here?"

"The company needed a supervisor," she responded, eying the microphone.

Francine shook her head, "I don't feel comfortable with this. She knows Thornton was my boss, and she knows so much about this company. How can I say anything around her?"

The detective and the cop exchanged glances, but they didn't ask the woman to leave. Instead of saying anything else, Francine decided to leave the room. She just couldn't say anything in front of the representative, and she couldn't force herself to bite her tongue like that in an official interview. She stood to go, and the older detective stopped her.

"Well, if you would like to provide more information, please call us to set up an appointment," he said, handing her a card. Francine accepted it and moved back to her office. She bit her lip as she thought of the run-in. The plan was for everyone to say what they could in their interview even if a company representative was there, but Francine couldn't do it. And after lunch with some of the others, she found she wasn't the only one. All of the women she ate with, four others total, walked out of the interview as soon as they realized the representative would be helping with the questioning, and all four were now wary of calling for an appointment.

Francine agreed, "I had that same gut feeling. I think we should go up there together after work and barge in on the department. That won't give them any time to plan for us."

The others agreed, but because the entire group hadn't been questioned yet, they decided to hold off so they could spread the word. Francine agreed, and the group returned to work and tried to pretend that things were normal. They weren't, however, and Francine felt her stomach twisting into knots. She left a few minutes early in an attempt to get relief, but her night was fitful, and she knew this would only get worse until she could get the truth off her chest.

Fern was working her shift at the Greasy Burger when a woman came inside that Fern knew through her mother. She'd sold the woman a small ranch-style home not far from theirs, and from what Fern remembered, the inspection done after the sell revealed major problems that angered the woman. Somehow she still had a copy of Fern's book under her arm, and while Fern asked for her order when she approached the counter, all the woman could say was:

"Your mother ruined your book just like she ruined my chances of ever having a dream home."

"I really don't want to talk about that here," Fern blushed, scanning the room. Her eyes fell on her manager standing about twenty feet away. He heard the dark tone in the woman's voice and immediately honed in on their conversation. Fern gulped, "May I take your order?"

"Number one with Coke," she said gruffly, watching as Fern input the numbers on her computer. She handed Fern her credit card without Fern even asking for it. She eyed her carefully, "You know what she did, and now you're just as stuck. If you need help, come to me. I'm getting a group together. We're going to start a Facebook group that's a book club soon, but it won't be a book club. Find us, okay?"

"I'll do that. Now I can't talk anymore about it. You're number forty-eight," Fern said, handing the woman her receipt. She nodded and dropped the subject, but the encounter worried her throughout her shift.

After showering in an attempt to get the smell of Greasy Burger off of her body, Fern went online and messaged Alex about the encounter, complete with the history between the woman and her mother. He asked if she'd found the group yet, but Fern hadn't despite a few search attempts. Alex was quiet for a while, but he soon sent a simple response:

"Your mother's problems are becoming a pattern."

Fern swallowed as the realization hit her. Her mother's problems did reach beyond this recent swarm of issues. That woman's ranch-style disaster was only one of many deals Doria made that many neighbors deemed questionable. In one incident, a family bought a home that ended up being picked in an eminent domain deal to expand one of the mall's parking lots. When they did some research, they discovered the plan was in place for several years, angering them enough to sue Doria. The lawsuit didn't work, and neither did the others Fern remembered from her childhood.

As she thought about the situations her mother had been in throughout the years, situations that often ended in court disputes being ruled in her favor, even Fern couldn't dismiss the evidence. Her mother was some sort of control freak or scammer, but Fern wasn't sure. Selling a home set for demolition or a home with major problems could be overlooked. Maybe she didn't know about the problems with those properties for whatever reason. But Fern now had first-hand evidence that she liked to alter products, from printed materials for a friend's business to her own daughter's book.

Fern didn't know what to think, but she told Alex the truth, "I think it's been going on for years now, maybe even since before I was born. I don't know what to think anymore."

Alex wanted to know more, but Fern was drained. She asked to talk about it another day, and he agreed to wait. Their conversation ended, and soon Fern found herself reading through her new project again. It really was good material, but she had to fix her current book first. Despite some reluctance, she started another letter that she would send out to a few publishers, perhaps three to start. She stated her situation and made sure they realized that Fern had an audience, one eager to get the real version. She'd wait to send it off, and while she didn't really want to undermine her mother this way, Fern knew she had no choice.

Sue Ellen was reluctant to put her plan in place despite how important it was to let her parents know she was safely in the United States. She had to focus on her studies for now, so she spent her free time reading for two days. On the third she found herself in the student center getting a cookie and a soda to help boost her energy. After making her purchase, she turned around and nearly ran headlong into George.

"Wow, sorry, I didn't see you," Sue Ellen blushed, quickly realizing that it was his own fault for nearly getting knocked down. He wanted to talk, but he was struggling to begin. Sue Ellen made her way to a table and sat down, "What's up, George? Just spit it out."

"I've been having to lie for you all week, and I'm so glad you're actually here. Ever since those attacks, people have been so curious about you. You really need to post something on your blog to let people know you're okay," George said quickly.

Sue Ellen squinted, "You nearly mowed me down to tell me that? I know I need to let people know I'm okay. I've been really busy with my work, so I just haven't done it yet. I've told my parents I'm safe, but I've decided that I need to go a step further. I have to tell them I'm here."

"I was going to say that too. How are you going to do it?" George asked.

Sue Ellen smiled, "I want to tell them in person. I was thinking of going this weekend if I'm not too busy. They follow my blog, so I might have to lie there first, but…I'm growing tired of the lies. It gets to be taxing."

George nodded, agreeing that it was hard to maintain such a life. But then he changed the subject, "How's Pierre doing?"

Sue Ellen thought about him and realized they hadn't been in contact since the attacks. She pulled out her phone and went to Facebook to see if he'd posted. He hadn't, but there were several recent comments on his page. Sue Ellen went pale and passed the phone to George.

"He was killed in the attack? Where was he?" George asked, scrolling through the list.

Sue Ellen couldn't say anything. She rushed away from the table, leaving her things with George as she moved into a bathroom. She locked herself in a stall and squatted in the floor, sobbing as a wave of nausea hit her. Pierre was dead. Her benefactor was dead, killed in a terrorist attack. This was unreal, and she just couldn't handle the news.

Worst of all, she knew that meant he couldn't pay for her anymore. The good thing was that she intended to tell her parents soon, but the bad thing was that she'd lost a good friend in France, one of the few good things she'd encountered in the country.

After composing herself, Sue Ellen returned to the table red-faced but alright for the moment. She eyed her cookie and soda and realized she needed to eat and drink it despite her feelings. She had to keep up her strength so she could get ahead on her studying. If she was going to Elwood City this weekend, it was going to be a trip that would definitely steal into her time.

George made sure Sue Ellen was alright before leaving her. He was just as shocked by the news as her, but there was nothing more he could do. He returned to his day, hoping for the best for his friend.

Jenna never thought she'd actually be grateful for Frank to return. Despite him being hung over, he did let her out of the room. She settled on the couch, glad to be out of that ungodly room. She was even happier to use an actual bathroom when the time came, and she hoped he wouldn't lock her in there again any time soon.

While he dosed in the master bedroom, Jenna sat in silence in the drab living room. While it was in better shape than the living room in their last house, this one was just as bad. The television was broken, and judging by the size and shape of the crack, Frank had thrown a beer bottle at the screen in anger. Jenna gulped as she noticed other signs of his anger—a hole in the drywall behind the front door from swinging it back too hard, a punch-sized hole in the drywall in the kitchen, flakes of broken glass under the cabinets from who knows what. She knew he had a temper, otherwise he wouldn't lock her away as often, but he'd never shown real physical force against her…yet.

As she gripped her belly, Jenna knew the time was coming for her to set her baby free. It had stopped moving as much, and the practice contractions were getting a little stronger. She could go into real labor any moment now, and she hoped Frank would actually take her to the hospital. Judging by how excited he was when she first told him she was pregnant, he would probably pretend to be the doting young father just to keep up appearances.

Jenna knew the truth, and she couldn't do that to her baby. As she sat quietly alone in that living room, she daydreamed about all the different scenarios that could happen when she goes into labor. She had to prepare herself for anything that could happen so she'd know what to do in that situation, so she'd know how to get her baby out of any future situations.

Muffy was sitting at the bar waiting for her client to get there. She was back with the businessman who had sparked her father's tirade, the man who decided Ed's children deserved better treatment even if he didn't agree. He was still in town on business and wanted someone to have dinner with, but Muffy wondered what else she might hear from him. She didn't know what to think as the waiter retrieved her and led her to his table.

"Hello, Muffy, it's good to see you again," he smiled, folding out his napkin and placing it neatly on his lap. "I'm glad you were available tonight. I assume your father doesn't include you in his charity galas?"

Muffy sighed, shaking her head. She wondered why her father had been late that afternoon. She didn't know his schedule in a general sense, but hearing that he was going to a charity gala without her did annoy her. Chip was always allowed to go, always standing beside him while he completed his hosting duties. Even her mother would likely be there sitting at the head of the most important table. Yet Muffy wasn't even informed of the gala, and she definitely wasn't invited. She sighed again as she sipped her drink again.

The businessman sighed, "See, this is why I wanted out of your father's dealings. He thinks people are chess pieces, and while that can be true in war, it should not be true in business. I've been thinking about that contract for days since I ended it, namely because he keeps attempting to contact me. My decision has been made, but another one has been coming up in my thoughts, as well as in discussions I have with my associates. We need someone to help lead that international front, going to meetings and attending events. Do you have any experience in the European sector?" he asked.

Muffy withheld a scoff, "No, I've only been to Europe on vacation, and that was with a friend I met in college who was kind enough to let me tag along. My family never took real vacations when I was growing up, nothing of notice, and you know about my life from a business standpoint."

"I am aware of that, and I already suspected that would be your response. We have someone in mind, an older woman who has divided her time between here and Europe her entire life. She wants to retire soon, but she's going to give us a few more years. While she's still there, you can shadow her, going where she goes and learning exactly what she does, plus some of their languages if you can. You'll be paid a fraction of her salary while you shadow her, then you'll inherit her salary, plus a little, when she does retire," he smiled, sliding a card across the table, "That is the salary you'll start with on top, and that will be your full-time salary on the bottom."

Muffy nearly choked. It was ten times what she was making now at her father's company, plus the work was ten times more prestigious. She was in a state of shock as she eyed the card, but then her eyes lifted to her client:

"What about this?" she asked in a low whisper.

"What you do in your spare time is your decision. Our meetings would cease, of course, to keep up appearances, but how you handle yourself beyond our schedule is entirely up to you. I heard that you just started."

"I have just started," Muffy nodded, trying to think of the numbers in her head, "I think this would be more money, but I'm not sure. I was just curious because there has already been some talk. My brother confronted me because he saw us at that party. He thought I seduced you at the office or something."

The man laughed, "No, no, that's definitely not how it happened, and we only ended up with each other by chance. My usual companion has been dealing with family problems across the country for the last few weeks, otherwise I would've gone with her. Knowing you beforehand helped my decision, but you would've been my choice anyway. All of this was just chance, but it got me thinking. And now that you've mentioned it, I've wondered how your family would react if they found out."

"Well, my brother was unhappy, thinking I planned this, and my father was furious. I had no choice but to let him know the whole reason I started this, and I'm curious to see how he reacts. I wonder if he'll actually change anything about my job. If he doesn't, I think you know my decision, and I'll think about this arrangement," Muffy said, gesturing to the table. "I have enjoyed the few meetings I've had, so I might continue."

"That's entirely up to you. I can honestly say I've enjoyed our time together. You're a fabulous young woman, and I'm eager to see how you are in the office after seeing how you are in bed," he winked. Muffy smiled, knowing what would happen after dinner. A few months before, she'd be petrified by the thought, but now that it was happening to her, she found herself excited and eager to see what the night would hold.

Learning her new position was much easier than she expected. The cash register in the boutique was simple to use. A few of the keys were prone to sticking in the humid Louisiana weather, but otherwise it was a simple process. The stockroom was well organized, so putting items back on the shelves after a purchase would be easy. She would have to walk around every morning to make sure no dust accumulated the night before, but otherwise she would remain at the counter. She would have to answer the phone on occasion, but the time was good for her to continue her reading for class.

The first morning she knocked out her chapters for the week in one of her classes, then she found herself checking her camera feeds. She found her mother and the nurse taking a stroll around the yard looking at the various flowers that had come into bloom. She must've had a good morning so far, Ladonna thought, trying to remember the last time she actually let her mother out into the yard for a walk. Because her mother rarely recognized her, Ladonna was afraid to let her outside in case she decided to run off, but she knew the nurse had a control over the situation. She watched them go back inside and sit in the kitchen to work out what they were having for lunch.

As lunch time rolled around for herself, Ladonna decided to walk up the street to a small diner. She ordered a small hamburger with all the fixings and a large tea. She then settled by the window to eat her meal, contemplating the entire time whether or not she'd order some of their homemade potato chips.

As she ate and contemplated, she felt someone studying her from somewhere in the room. Ladonna looked up and noticed a skinny brunette with a group of people across the room. Her eyes were practically locked on Ladonna, but when she realized she'd been busted, the girl made her way across the room and sat down across from Ladonna as if she'd been sitting there all along…yet Ladonna still had no idea who she was.

"I cannot believe you don't recognize me, Ladonna Compson," the girl said with a devious smirk. Ladonna realized she must know her since she knew her full name, but Ladonna shook her head to let her know she was still clueless. The girl scoffed, "You moved to Elwood City and left us behind completely, didn't you? I'm August Lynn, AL. Do you remember me now?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe it," Ladonna gasped.

AL was her best friend until she left for Elwood City. They met in preschool and became fast friends because they were both the youngest girls in rather large families. AL had eight other siblings, three girls and six boys, two of which were younger than her. Ladonna studied her and immediately realized the problem. AL had always been a little chunky, but somehow she became a skinny bombshell over the years.

"Wow, how have you been?" Ladonna asked.

"Well, I'm not the youngest girl anymore. Mama had two more kids, both girls. The youngest, Meredith, died in a car accident a few years ago. She was fourteen and decided to take the family car for a spin while we were seeing off my brother to college, and we're glad she left the other one, Mary, at home. We found out later she was with her boyfriend. Needless to say she's already had a kid, Donny, and now she lives with him in Alabama. I think there are seven kids now total. My oldest brother has two, the oldest girl has three, Mary has one, and I have one, Michael. I had him right out of high school," AL whispered, nodding gently, "I gave him up though. I was not ready for that kind of responsibility. So, what about you?"

"Mama stopped at Bud, so you still know all of my siblings. My parents divorced while we were in school up there. The oldest kids were already out of the house, and the rest of us decided to stay with Mama. Then we came here so I could go to college."

"Are you done yet?" AL asked.

Ladonna laughed, "Well, not really. A year or so in she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I had to quit to take care of her, but I'm back now because I've gotten people to take care of her. I track them using cameras. You just can't trust anybody nowdays. And I just told my family a few weeks ago," Ladonna blushed.

AL leaned forward, "Wow, you mean you kept that burden to yourself for two-plus years?" she asked. Ladonna nodded meekly. AL shook her head, "Wow, I don't see how you did it. I couldn't imagine my life revolving around diapers, and now you've got a mama who probably needs them herself? I'm amazed at you."

Ladonna shrugged, "I was just doing what I had to do, and you did the same thing. I couldn't imagine having a baby right now."

"I thought I was imagining at first myself," AL laughed. "I guess I've got that in common with my sister. I let him tell me what I wanted to hear, and the next thing you know my pants don't fit and I'm craving ice cream sandwiches and Cheetohs. I was so disappointed in myself, but I did want to give him up. Michael is with Catherine now. Do you remember her?"

"Of course I remember her. She was in the grade above us and she always wanted to be a teacher," Ladonna nodded.

"Well, she wanted kids too, remember? And right after high school, she found out she couldn't have kids. She'd been working on adopting one, but with her age and without a husband, she was having no success. So when I found out, I called her and we set things in motion. Now I'm Auntie AL and she's a mother. We don't plan on telling him."

"Wow," Ladonna whispered, raising her hand to the waiter. She ordered some of those homemade potato chips she'd been wanting and she invited AL to join her. AL had to get back to her table. She was out with the guys from work and needed to get back. Ladonna didn't mind eating alone, but she wished she'd gotten her old friend's number so they could stay in touch. That regret ate at her for the rest of the day, but she knew AL. She would definitely find her.

Bitzi was in the middle of a text conversation with Richard when her doorbell rang. Bitzi let Richard know she'd be back on in a little while, and she left her phone in her bedroom before answering the door. She was surprised to see Buster at the door with a chocolate pie in his hands. She let him inside and let him put the pie in her refrigerator while they talked.

After settling on the couch, Buster broke into his spiel, "I wanted to set things right with you. I feel like we didn't end things on good terms the other day, and I need things to be on good terms with you. You actually know Palladia, so I need to listen to you."

"I was being honest when I told you that I didn't want to be fully involved in your love life. I cannot make decisions for you," Bitzi said firmly.

Buster sighed, "I don't want you to make decisions for me. I need you to tell me things, such as when I'm messing up. I know now that we should wait to get married and move in together all in one go. I understand that now. What I need to know is if moving in with her at all is going to be worth it."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Mom, I don't know! She can be argumentative about silly things. I found that out when I got the wrong dish at a restaurant, another dish I like, and she forced them to bring me another dish free of charge. I almost left the place without her. It was awful!" Buster exclaimed.

Bitzi smiled, "Well, Palladia had to learn to be headstrong. She's a journalist like I am, and she had to learn not to just sit back and let things happen. Should she learn to listen to your needs? Yes, but that's something you have to work out with her, not with me."

"Look, I know you said you don't want to help me anymore, but I feel like I'm making the biggest mistake in my life even though it hasn't even happened yet. We've been looking at apartments, and she wants one-bedroom deals with good views that are close to shops and venues, and I just don't want to share a room with her. She's been to my place now, and she hates everything. It would be her house, not mine. I can't live like that," Buster said firmly, "but I don't want to just dump her because I really care about her."

"You can date someone without living with them," Bitzi smiled. "That's all I can tell you though. I might know Palladia, but I can't just talk sense into her just as I can't talk sense into you. You're an adult now, and you need to figure things out for yourself."

Buster sighed, "Something else has been bothering me. Okay, you're right on the one thing and we're done with that. I'll figure it out," Buster said, rubbing his temples, "I need to know what you were saying about Dad. What happened back then that I don't know about?"

"He did cheat. He played me and he lied," Bitzi nodded, "and I decided I couldn't live like that. We made a pact to keep things civil for you, but that's the main reason I worried whenever you would go with him. I don't know if he ever figured it out, and I didn't want him putting those values into you. He treated me poorly and had no regrets about it. He regretted you, but I gave him no choice but to leave you with me. He didn't have a permanent residence at the time, so it was the obvious choice."

"So Dad was a player. How come you never thought to tell me before? You never even told me not to date more than one girl. We never even discussed it," Buster said.

Bitzi nodded, "I know we never discussed it. Discussing it would've let you know that one of us cheated, be it me or your father, and I could tell you knew better. You were pretty angry when you found out that guy you went to high school with had three kids with two different girls, plus other girlfriends on the side. I knew then you'd turned out to be nothing like your father, and I honestly never wanted you to know about that. But you need to remember that in the future. Just because a breakup was civil doesn't mean there weren't severe problems, crippling problems. Your father and I kept things civil for you, and that's another lesson. Children change things, and that's something I want you to remember before you decide to get too…involved."

Buster blushed, "I get it, I get it, and I know already. We've talked about that and I still hate it. Palladia and I are really careful, but…I think I've got it worked out now," he said, standing up, "Can I eat some pie with you just like in the good old days?"

Bitzi nodded, following him into the kitchen and removing the chocolate pie from the refrigerator. She cut out a few pieces then set them onto the plates Buster retrieved for her. They sat at the dining table and ate in silence, enjoying a slice from their past as they attempted to forget their current problems.

Belinda picked up the phone but stopped before dialing any numbers. She'd found Bitzi's direct number at the newspaper office, but with it being a Saturday, she wondered if the woman would be there to answer her call. She wanted to talk to her personally about her situation. Leaving a message wouldn't do, so Belinda had to decide her plan now.

It came to her in a flash—if Bitzi wasn't there, she'd just have to call when she got off her shift on Monday.

With that decided, Belinda finished dialing the number. After two rings, the plan she came up with went away in an instant—Bitzi was at work, and she was the one who answered the phone.

"Hello?" Bitzi asked. Belinda realized she'd hesitated slightly too long, but she knew her mistake now. She'd have to speak, which meant she'd finally have to speak.

"Hi, this is a former nurse from the general hospital here in Elwood City. I think I have some information that should be shared with the public, but I'm unsure how to go about it," Belinda said, careful to leave her name out of it at the moment. She knew this was dumb—she was calling from her home phone, and the bill was in her name, meaning Bitzi might already know who she was—but it was how she wanted to start out.

Bitzi shifted, "Well, I'm happy to hear from you. How do you feel about meeting in a private location to discuss your issue? I like to meet people at a gazebo by the lake. Do you know the place?"

"The lake, yes, but a gazebo?" Belinda asked. Bitzi gave her directions to a gazebo down a beaten path on the west side of the lake. An hour later, Belinda was surprised that she easily found this path and the gazebo located at the end of it. The only thing she could hear, despite this being a beautiful day for a lake outing, were the cries of water bugs and local birds.

A few minutes later, Bitzi arrived with a journalist's notebook and sat across from her. Bitzi smiled in recognition as she looked up for the first time. Belinda nodded. She was indeed Binky's mother from those Lakewood years.

Belinda sighed, "I've debated about this, but now that I know how many people will be effected and that they can't come after me for speaking, I feel the community should know what the hospital is planning."

"Before we begin, I'd like to tell you that yes, the company has been covering up the impending merger. Their legal documents have trickled through our Friday editions, but so far no one has made a big deal about it. Speaking up now is too late to stop this merger, but I take there's another problem?" Bitzi questioned.

Belinda nodded, "They're firing all of the nurses, a complete clear-out. I quit before this could happen to me because the conditions were miserable. They had us working twelve-hour shifts, but many of us would often get called in on our days off or right after our shift to come back in. The day I quit, I was asked to come in to handle a trauma case in the ER, something that would be unlikely to happen as we're not a trauma system, and I'm not trained for that situation."

Bitzi scribbled down a few quick notes before looking up, "This is the first I've heard of a clear-out. Can the job market support this? I mean, are there enough jobs for those who would be leaving and enough workers to fill the spots?"

"No on both counts," Belinda replied firmly, "and many of them need their job just to stay afloat. I offered to help them, but the location I moved to filled their last spot when they hired me, and honestly they could even do without me. Those nurses do half of what we had to do at the hospital, not even considering the nurse-to-patient ratio. And from what I was told when I arrived, they had a hard time getting applicants because most local nurses have jobs, and they didn't want to hire anyone from somewhere like Metropolis, not that many of them applied."

Bitzi again took down some notes and looked up with a smile, "Do you know if anyone else would be willing to provide quotes on this situation?"

"I doubt they would. If the hospital changes its mind, they might still fire anyone that gets quoted," Belinda warned.

"I just wanted to know if there were any others in your situation. I know who you are, of course, but I'll keep your name out of it for the moment just in case your new employers don't want a whistleblower in their ranks. I'll keep this quiet for a week, then I'll break it in next Sunday's edition as a final addition. No one will see it coming," Bitzi grinned with a devious note.

Belinda thanked her, then she left the gazebo. Bitzi said she'd leave soon after, but Belinda didn't stick around to find out. She went home and changed clothes before joining her husband and daughter in his car. They were going out to lunch as a family, something they hadn't done for years.

Anita was nervous as she entered the courtroom. She almost didn't show up for her husband's hearing, but she needed to know what they were going to decide about him. From what she'd heard, he was thinking of pleading guilty to avoid much press on the matter, something she liked to hear, but she was worried about his punishment. This was his first offense, and she knew the judge could go light on him.

After hearing a few other cases, a burglary case and a car theft one, it was James' turn to take to the bench. He and his public defender stood a few feet from where an assistant district attorney was standing. Once the judge heard what he needed to hear, he asked for his plea. As Anita had heard, he plead guilty to all counts.

The judge nodded and looked down to some paperwork, "I've been trying something new with my DUI clients. There have been far too many as of late, and many of them seem to be the type that could be repeat offenders if they do not get control over their alcohol problem. So, instead of jail, I'm sentencing you to ninety days at a rehab facility here in town. Do you accept this sentence?"

"Yes," James nodded. The gavel banged and then it was over. James was lead out and the next guy, another burglary suspect, was led into his place. The public defender remained in his spot, but Anita didn't stick around. She followed her husband and his bailiff out to the front, where a group of men sat on a bench with cuffs around their wrists.

Anita went over to where the bailiff had gone. It was a glassed-in area with a woman inside. She seemed to know what was going on, so Anita got her information from her. Sure enough, her husband would be attending a rehab facility in town. It was in a gated complex, so no one would be able to go in without permission, just as he would not be able to leave without permission because of his sentencing. What he did after those ninety days was entirely up to him. He'd be free from his DUI charge, but whether he was free from his alcoholism was something he would have to work out on his own.

She decided against speaking to her husband. She left the courthouse and returned home without really thinking of what she'd do for the rest of the day. She decided to begin looking at properties in Metropolis on her own, commercial properties from a realtor local to the area. She would keep this search a secret for now, but as her personal life became hectic, she knew that she didn't want to take anything from Doria. If the woman became too much to deal with, Anita would find someone else in a heartbeat, and she'd tell the whole town what happened.

Molly finished her exam and stepped away from her client. The freshman smiled before reporting to the professor's chair for one final examination. Molly knew this was one of her last tests before her true final exam, and she nervously kept her seat as she tried to rid her thoughts of the nauseous feeling in her stomach. She hadn't been able to eat for about thirty-six hours now, which she knew wasn't helping, but she had no choice. Her treatments were making her quite sick, whether she would admit it to her professors or not.

After looking over the student test subject, the professor gestured Molly into her office, standard practice after such an exam. The professor finished filling out a rubric on a bright purple clipboard as Molly settled herself across from her. After a moment, the professor signed the bottom with a flourish and passed the rubric to her:

"I'm impressed, and I know this is going to help you quite a bit. I'm counting this as your final exam. You did a good job with this patient, and I know that will help you at the job you already have. I've looked into your other courses, and since you have a steady B in your mechanics class, I think you can exempt that final. Pending your other courses, this could be your last day of class," the professor smiled.

Molly was stunned and shook her head, "I don't see how it's possible. I thought I had to do so many hours of hands-on work with so many patients…"

"Don't worry about that. Your degree should never come into question, and even if it does, I'm putting some notes in your file to confirm the discrepancy was known, that in fact, we planned it. Consider it a rare graduation gift from your professors."

Molly looked up with a sudden realization, "Is this because of my cancer, because of the treatments?" she asked.

The professor sighed, "That's part of it, but you really are a wonderful student. I just did an examination for another classmate of yours who's been here longer because of a failed course or two. Even they missed spots you were able to get, and I saw no signs of gum damage from a slipped tool, something your classmates still do this late in the game. I want you to be done with school, cancer or no cancer. You're doing well enough that I feel confident in releasing you."

"I thank you. I'd argue with you on principle, but I really just want to go home right now," Molly said, standing up. "These were my last two classes, and since I'm not walking, I guess this is goodbye."

"For the most part," the professor smiled. "I'll stop in every once in a while, and I'd like your permission to add you on Facebook. You're a wonderful student and an amazing person, and I'd love to stay in touch.

Molly gave her permission, but as she left, the sick feeling in her stomach only got worse. She was an average student at best. Yes, she was attentive to detail and made her patient's comfort a top priority. But she knew she was only being released early because of her sickness, and that just made her feel worse. It made her angry, which for some reason made her hungry. She stopped by a chicken place and got a wrap. She ate in her driveway, not wanting to let that voracious feeling escape her.

When she was done, Molly went inside and changed out of her uniform and into some sweats. As she curled up on the couch, she felt her nauseous feeling subside. She smiled softly. She was actually going to get to keep her lunch and graduate early. Today was a good day.

Prunella wasn't necessarily surprised to see one of her old coworkers show up at her new job. She'd been there four or five days now, and she had encountered some people she knew would spread the word. Once that word was spread, she knew people were bound to show up looking for her.

What she didn't expect was them not to beg her to come back. Her instructions ended up being adequate, so they just mixed work around to cover her duties. They weren't even thinking of refilling her position quite yet, though their supervisor wanted them to vote at their Friday meeting for a designated representative, something they were eager to do though none of it wanted the power to go to their heads.

Overall the place was running smoothly, and while they were crazed at first, they eventually settled into a routine and started getting work done, work they didn't even know they could do until Prunella left. The coworker thanked her before heading out of the dealership.

At home that night, Prunella turned on her cellphone and noticed the messages declined after the second day and stopped after the third. She smiled to herself and realized she'd made the right decision for everyone. She kicked her feet back and turned on her television to find something to watch.

But then it happened. She heard something thump in the kitchen. She turned around to see the same man she'd seen that night at the office. Prunella rubbed her eyes as she watched the guy finish making a sandwich and move into the living room next to her.

"Aren't you going to have any dinner, love?" he asked.

Prunella flipped off the television and went to her room. She was hungry, and she probably hadn't eaten for twelve hours or more since she forgot her lunch. She doubted hunger could cause such a delusion, yet when she went to her bedroom door and peeked out, she was surprised not to see the man still sitting in the chair. He was gone as quickly as he'd appeared, but his appearance alone freaked her out.

After a few minutes, Prunella did make herself some dinner, which she scarfed down in record time before fleeing to her bedroom again. She dove into bed and fumbled under the bed for a book, which she picked up and tried to flip through just to keep her mind occupied. It didn't work. Seeing that delusion again made her feel ill, and for the first time, she wondered if she needed to seek treatment as her sister had done.

Marina was eating dinner when Mary called her. She and Anthony had just finished meeting at his father's office, and so far the details were in place. Anthony's father would put in an offer the following Monday at six a.m. sharp, and they all hoped the school's board would begin discussing it quickly, though they all had doubts.

As their plan began to take shape, Mary's keen eye made them well aware of the problems that could come up. The school could reject Anthony's father's offer. The school could close at the end of the term without warning. The grants could get rejected. The grants could be awarded, but if those first two problems came up, it wouldn't matter because they wouldn't get the money anyway. There were so many variables and so many ways this could go wrong, but Marina knew she had support.

After her meal, Marina went online and navigated to the school's website. She was drawn to the Facebook feed, which displayed recent messages. There were ten new messages total, all of them begging the school to take action to keep the school open without raising tuition to unpayable levels. Parents were starting to hear of the school's problems, and their assumption was that the school would close or they would hike up tuition to cover their losses.

Marina thought of telling them her plan, but she decided against it. She wanted to see the school's response to these online concerns. She knew a handful of the board members and administration checked the school's website and social media accounts at least weekly, so now she just had to wait to see what they had to say. Depending on what their response was, Marina knew they'd be stuck. If they rejected the buyout offer and raised tuition to stay afloat, the school would end up closing from a lack of members. While this could help Anthony's father start his own school for the blind, Marina knew this ultimately wouldn't help anyone.

After a few more minutes online, Marina decided to turn to her assignments from the day. She settled in at her dining room table and graded for hours, the rhythmic work keeping her mind at ease despite the stressful thoughts within.

Carla sighed as she went through the grocery store. In her heart, she knew Jenna was still out there safe, and she half-expected to see Jenna or Frank wandering the same supermarket she was in at the exact same time. She found herself crowd watching more than usual, causing her to run into displays and even into other carts. She ended her trip early because of this, rushing home to where her husband was relaxing after work.

As soon as he saw his wife, he knew she was thinking of their daughter again. Both of them had started to recover from her renewed disappearance, but this time was definitely harder. They cried together, both of them worried for Jenna and her unborn child. They wanted to do so much more for their daughter, but it was because of her actions that they could do nothing.

When they were finished with their emotional time together, the couple quietly got into the car and went out for dinner. They ended up at a seafood place without really discussing a location. It was overly crowded and the food wasn't as good as they expected, but they were going to go home dissatisfied no matter what restaurant they went to or how it performed. Their daughter was still missing, and her baby was still trapped in its mother's vicious cycle.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jane was attempting to get some work done, a troubling task even with her husband out of the house and in rehab. Five days later, she'd averted more questions from DW, who was still skeptical about her story. The good news was that she was apparently keeping her mouth shut. Kate had no questions, but she also had more worries. Not only did she have finals, she had a surgery to mentally prepare herself for, and that was the task she struggled with the most.

As Jane finally finished some paperwork that had bugged her all day, Kate emerged from the bus and slowly walked into the house. Jane met her in the kitchen and handed her a bag of M&M cookies, her recent favorite snack. Jane eyed how many they had left and decided to snag one herself and join her daughter at the table. Kate struggled to open the bag, but soon she was inside and devouring one of the delicious bites of goodness.

When she was done chewing, Kate looked up solemnly, "Do I really have to have this surgery? I don't really have that much pain in my knee, and I just don't want to be put to sleep."

"I can assure you the people putting you to sleep and performing your surgery are trained professionals. It's going to hurt when you're done because you'll have to build your strength again, but I have faith that you'll be perfectly fine. Before you know it, the surgery will be a distant memory," Jane smiled.

Kate tried to smile back, but Jane knew it was only because she took in another cookie packed with M&M's. Kate was worried, and Jane knew she was entitled to her worry. Surgery was a big deal at any age, especially when you were so young. Jane understood, but she also had bigger things on her mind. She was worried about David, namely his recovery process. Was he doing any better?

When Kate went upstairs to continue studying for her finals, Jane went into the master bedroom and locked the door. She used her cellphone to call Thora, who was in charge of keeping track of David's progress. She was the only one he was allowed to speak with outside of the facility, and today was his first phone call.

Thora answered on the first ring with a sigh. Jane squinted, "Is everything alright, Thora?"

"Yes, yes, sorry. I'm just working on a new recipe for dinner and it's not going very well," she sighed. "I bet you're calling to see how my call with David went. Well, it never happened. I called the facility and hour ago but got a busy signal. So I went online and saw that phones were down in a few blocks around the area. Apparently some contractors sliced the buried lines."

Jane shook her head, "Well, I guess they'll get fixed eventually so we can get word about him. I just wanted to know how he was holding up."

"I know, I know, but I have some gossip for you about the facility if you're interested," Thora said with the tone of a trickster. Jane decided to let her continue even though she wasn't very interested. Thora grinned, "I was thumbing through the Sunday edition and found out a recent DUI suspect was able to take a plea deal. If he went into the facility, that could count as his complete sentence. Would you like to know who it was?"

"Sure," Jane lied, though she was slightly interested now. Who in the area had been arrested for DUI lately that she knew? Jane couldn't remember, so she let Thora do all the talking.

Thora smiled and spoke with a bright tone, "Do you remember Alan Powers? His father was arrested for DUI and now he's there with David."

"Wow, I didn't even know he drank. There was a party once with spiked punch and he adamantly refused it," Jane said with a shocked tone.

"I'm just spreading my knowledge. Sarah called a few hours ago and told me a little about it, but she wanted me to find out for myself. She knows I get behind on my papers when I'm busy," Thora said, sighing, "Shoot, it's boiling over again. I better let you go."

The call ended before Jane could protest, but she didn't mind. She didn't want Thora to hear the relief in her voice as she realized another wife and mother in the community had the same gut wrenching problem of an addicted husband who was willing to break the law to continue being himself.

Francine and the girls met up at an abandoned car wash near the police station. Once they were there, they drove in a convoy to the station, meeting up again at the entrance to the station closest to the downtown parking deck. In a pack, they wandered through a long, empty hallway before coming to the desk. The receptionist, a tired-looking woman with dark hair, didn't seem surprised and led them to an office upstairs. Once in the lobby there, a detective they didn't recognize divided them up. Francine ended up with him, and she eagerly told her story.

While the detectives took notes, Francine wondered if this would do any good. Thornton may or may not have raped Samantha, and while he was guilty of groping them and making comments, Francine wondered if any of that was really illegal. Maybe HR needed to know first, not the cops.

But the task was done. When they were done, the women met up at an Applebee's up the street. All of them ordered drinks and sipped them as they snacked on a shared appetizer. The mood was grim, and Francine realized they all had the same reservations. Because Samantha acted on their own, Francine's plan to retrieve evidence using secret cameras and microphones ended before anyone could get any cold, hard evidence. While Francine didn't blame her, she wanted to know the truth about the situation. The others probably felt the same way, but Francine wouldn't share with them either way. She needed to know for herself, and promising secrecy was the best way to get Samantha to talk.

An hour after they finished eating, the women trickled out of the restaurant. Once she was alone in her car, Francine pulled up Samantha's cell number and called her. She answered after two rings, and after some convincing, she agreed to accept Francine at her house. She texted her the address, but Francine didn't need to call her for directions. She was staying in her old apartments, which were now outdated and used as cheap housing for young families trying to get something more. Maybe they'd always been that way, but Francine wasn't sure. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she ascended to the second floor. Samantha was waiting with the door open, a mostly full glass of red wine in her hand.

"If you want any wine, I'll have to disappoint you. This is my last bottle, and I won't be going out until tomorrow, maybe later. A bottle a day doesn't do much for you, but I need it right now," Samantha sighed, eying Francine closely. "You smell like jail."

"We went to the police station to tell them our stories without HR peering over our shoulders. They wanted to question us about Thornton, but we had to lie at the office. I mean, we didn't have to, but we all ended up feeling that way," Francine sighed. "We had dinner and drinks to recover, but it's still surreal."

"You look like you're doubting yourself too, or something else. Did you come here to ask my about my story?" Samantha asked.

Francine nodded slowly, adding, "I just needed to know for myself. No one else has to know either way. It's not their business."

"It's not yours either," Samantha said, taking a sip of her wine and looking up, "but I don't blame you for having doubts. This isn't the first time I've been groped at work. I learned from my mother than dressing sexy in the office might start rumors among your peers, but you tend to get promoted quicker than the others. You might have to take on advances or touches or dinner invitations, but if you play ball you often get the power you need. It takes time though, too much time."

Samantha shifted and looked up to Francine with sad eyes, "I had to do what I did to put an end to him. He has gone after women sexually before. I knew it because a friend of mine used to work there. She warned me because she knew my methods, but I didn't listen despite the evidence staring me in the face," she smiled sadly, pointing to a photo on the wall, "That is my friend, and that child came from Thornton. I've told her to join in on the charges, but she was paid hush money. It was under the table, so I told her he couldn't sue her, and if he did, a judge would probably listen to her story, but she's terrified. So are the others. We know of three, but there have to be more."

"So you coerced Thornton into having sex with you so you could cry rape?" Francine whispered, almost choking on the words.

Samantha smirked, "Yes and no. He was too forceful. I think that was his intention anyway. I was alone in the office for the first time in months, and he was grabby last time, so I let him think he was in control. But I didn't want to do it. I still feel disgusting, and it still hurts. He's a mad man in bed, Francine. How he hasn't been charged before is beyond me."

Francine nodded, satisfied with Samantha's responses. Francine knew she was just doing what she had to do, and she promised to keep the story a secret. Samantha thanked her before seeing her out and getting back to her glass of wine. She sipped it as she listened to the noises of the apartment, a withdrawn look on her face.

Fern easily found the house she was supposed to be looking for. Judging by the cars parked randomly along the street for the last block, the small house was going to be crowded with people. Fern gulped at this. If there were a lot of people here, then maybe her mother wronged far more people than she'd ever known about. She felt she had no choice but to join them though. Somehow Doria found the guile to betray her neighbors, and after all these years, she finally became despicable enough to betray her daughter.

Sure enough, the house was surrounded by cars, and when Fern rang the doorbell, the eyes of at least thirty people turned to greet her. She was the last to arrive, but the stares were sympathetic. Of all the people Doria had gone after for her own gains, Fern was probably the one they all felt the most sorry for. She may not have lost her life savings in a bad property, but she'd lost the trust of the one person in the world you should always trust, your mother.

"I'm glad you came," the woman smiled, stepping out of what Fern suspected was the kitchen. She introduced herself as Maryanne Simms, and Fern nodded to her before accepting a chair that had been reserved for her. Half of the adults in the room were standing, drinks in hand, wherever they could find some space, yet Fern was given a chair with several feet of clear space around it. She was the guest of honor.

"I almost didn't come," Fern admitted, "but I've been working with the boy that designed my covers. I haven't told him about this meeting, but I wanted to see what would happen first. He's been honest with me. He told me about some things, and he said he's even warned some people about my mother. Seeing you all here now, I see why he needed to do that."

A woman somewhere behind Fern on her right scoffed loudly, "This is only a few of us, and most of us are here for your book more than anything. Maryanne and I are one of only a few of her bad business deals. I think we'd need a ballroom at a hotel for all of us to fit."

Maryanne saw the look of horror on Fern's face and nodded, "Yes, she's wronged plenty of us in the community with her business ventures, but it's your book we've come together for. All of us here have read it, and all of us agree it's not your work. She butchered it, and we wanted to do something about it."

"Well, that's why I've been working with my friend. He suggested I write letters telling publishers my situation and who all would buy a fixed book. I haven't heard back yet—"

"We have," Maryanne interrupted, passing her a large white envelope. Fern noticed the seal in the return address corner. It was for one of the most profitable publishers in the world, not just in the country.

Fern opened the envelope as a hushed silence filled the room. Somehow the dozens of people crammed into the small house's living quarters remained quiet as she looked over the details. While they would ask an editor to look it over, they would make zero changes without Fern's approval. Most of all, they were willing to distribute her book nationwide, but they were going to start in Elwood City with a very public signing. Five hundred copies would be sent to the local bookstore, and Fern would be asked to make an appearance to promote the book.

When Fern was done reading and looked up, Maryanne smiled, "I already called them about one little thing. There won't be just five hundred books. I've asked for five thousand, and we've all agreed to badger our Facebook friends to help us get those five thousand sold. Preorders already have twelve hundred covered, and we expect that number to rise."

Fern was nearly speechless, but she managed to choke out a mousy "Thank you" to the group. The gruff woman from before shook her head, "No, thank you. Doria is going to look like a monster when we're through with her. We know she's your mother and all, but it's time she learn a lesson about screwing people over, especially her own daughter."

Fern nodded in agreement. She still had no idea what all her mother had done to members of the community, but she knew what she'd done to her. Helping your daughter publish a book on your own was a good choice, but changing it to suit your own needs while pedaling it out to the same neighbors you've spent years tormenting was wrong. Doria needed to be put in her place, and Fern didn't mind helping. She agreed to spread the word, so after enjoying some light refreshments, she jogged over to Alex's house.

She found him working on a project for the local library, a project he set aside as soon as Fern entered the door. His mother had let her in, and she couldn't get the words out fast enough to tell him what was happening. He was happy for her, but he knew what they had to do. They would go online and drum up support for her book. That meant drumming up support for Doria's enemies, but neither minded anymore. It was time for her to learn a lesson.

Sue Ellen took a deep breath as she got off the bus. She had tons of studying to do, and the duffle bag she was carrying her books in was causing her wrist to throb. She had a short walk to her childhood home, and she used the walk to plan her speech, which helped her forget the pain of carrying such a heavy load.

As she turned the corner, she noticed both of her parents' cars were in the driveway. She took a deep breath as she studied them both. It had been so long since she'd seen either car or the home itself, and she finally allowed herself to take in one of her favorite places in the world—home. She felt a smile on her lips as she skipped up the steps. She rang the doorbell and heard her mother call out that she was coming. Moments passed, and Sue Ellen knew from the sound of the sink that she'd caught her in the middle of something.

After waiting patiently, the door finally opened. Sue Ellen's mother put a hand to her mouth as she looked her daughter over. She took her into a tight hug as she called out for her husband to join them. He argued at first, saying he was on a conference call with some very important people, but she told him the news. The call was ended abruptly, and soon Sue Ellen was pulled inside the entryway so both of her parents could hug her at once.

"Oh, Sue, we were so worried!" her father exclaimed, "I was just on the phone with a friend of mine in Paris, well, video chatting him, to see what he could do to get you home. I had no idea you were already here!"

"Well, we need to talk about that," Sue Ellen said. Her parents agreed, but they had to go into the kitchen. Her mother made smoothies while her father dipped a plate of something from a casserole dish on the stove. It was one of her favorite meals, a foreign dish her mother learned years ago, and Sue Ellen refused to speak until she'd finished her plate and the smoothie.

Then she told them the truth from the beginning. She told them the French classes were much harder, and while she'd managed to pass at first, this semester was beginning to look hopeless. She desperately wanted to get back home to her own university, and after examining her funds and talking with the university, she realized she could get home and afford to keep herself up until she found a job. Then a friend offered to pay for everything, a French friend she now believed to be a victim of the terrorist attacks, and now she was worried about getting a job because her studies were a lot more tiresome than she expected.

When she was done, her mother smile with a tear in the corner of her eye, "I wish you'd told me sooner that you didn't share my dream anymore. You used to talk about it so often as a child that I thought you wanted to get a degree in France. You should've told me you were miserable."

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but things got desperate recently, and now I think it's a good thing. That friend might've invited me to the concert that night or to the café. I don't know where he died, but his Facebook has all of these messages asking him to rest in peace," Sue Ellen said, sighing heavily, "and I knew then I made the right choice but I had to speak to you, in person, about what I had done."

"We forgive you wholeheartedly, and that saves us a lot of trouble, but you've made more for yourself. What if this hadn't happened? How long would you have kept it up?" her father asked.

"As long as it took," Sue Ellen admitted, "With Pierre paying my bills, I would've been free to focus on school and my studies. I would've gotten my degree in the same time as my French one, then I could've gotten a job without either of you finding out. I hated to do that, but I thought it was best because I knew how much you wanted it."

"Well I forgive you, just as your father said, and we can help you. Send us your bills now that Pierre is gone," her mother said, "and we'll cover them, all of them, until you're done, but only if you promise to come home whenever you can."

"I promise," Sue Ellen nodded, standing so her parents could hug her again.

With that out of the way, Sue Ellen's father pulled her into his office to ask more about this Pierre character. Sue Ellen explained the strange situation, and her father listened intently. Then he asked for a full name, which Sue Ellen gave him. A moment later, he pulled up a list of the dead from the attacks. All of the names were released now, including ages. While there were many names on the list similar to his, and while there were many in his age bracket, none of them were an exact match.

Sue Ellen was confused, "How could this be?"

"I think he lied for whatever reason. Maybe you should check his page again," her father suggested, so she did. The results were the same—everyone thought he was dead, including family members. Her father sighed, "Well, it's a good thing we came along. We can cover your bills now instead, and that's much more fitting for a young woman even in these strange modern times."

"I agree. At first he wanted my help with his work," Sue Ellen grinned. "I told him finally that's why I left. I couldn't do the French work, not even after long nights of espresso gulping."

"Well, this is better," he smiled. "You're home and away from so much danger, and you're doing what you want to do, and that makes us happy. Are you staying the night?"

Sue Ellen agreed to stay until Sunday night, and her parents were happy to have her. They were pleased to have their daughter back, but all of them agreed that they needed to look more into this Pierre character just to make sure there was no danger.

Jenna knew this time was it. She was sleeping beside Frank, who'd allowed her in the bed only after she pleased him. He was all the way on the other side of the large mattress now snoring loudly, but Jenna knew this was it. She turned over to touch him, to get his attention, and when she did, a flood of wetness came. Jenna knew what that meant. Her water had broken and they needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

Frank didn't want to wake up, and he tried to slap her away. After his second swat, another contraction came that caused Jenna to cry out. Frank knew then what was happening, and like a dutiful boyfriend, he grabbed some clothes, his own first and then a small bag of hers, and then helped her to the car. He sped through Elwood City's streets clocking seventy in thirty-five's, but no cops stopped them.

Once at the hospital, Frank went to park the car while nurses took Jenna up to the maternity ward. On the way, Jenna demanded he not be allowed near her, that she be on her own in the delivery room no matter what he said. No one argued with her, and soon she was in a gown in her own room, the door closed and a curtain pulled so no one could peek in.

Jenna squeeze the railing on the bed as pain swept her body. While her face contorted and she sometimes cried out, most of her fear was for after the birth. Her plan was already working. Because Frank had disappeared to park the car, she was able to make her wishes known, and as she hoped, the hospital was listening. Frank was arguing outside. She could hear him through however many walls were between them, but she knew it was him, and he was mad to be excluded.

But finally, the cries stopped. A doctor came in with a pair of nurses. They had told Frank to go home, so he did. They would call him with news, which Jenna agreed to, and she would be the one to call. The plan was set, and the doctor examined her. She was only four centimeters along, so Jenna knew she had a while to wait.

For hours, contracts made her cry out, but Jenna refused any medicines. She knew what would happen after the birth, so she wanted to experience the pain to help solidify the memory of this moment. It was the worst pain she had ever felt in her entire life, but she knew every moment would be worth it as long as everything worked out.

Almost a day later, the doctor confirmed what Jenna's body was already telling her to do—it was time to start pushing. Another hour passed as Jenna labored, sweat pouring from her body. Every ounce was worth it when Jenna heard that cry, soft at first then a roar, a shout to tell the world I AM ALIVE.

Jenna smiled as the baby was put on her lap and cleaned. She was allowed to cut the cord herself with a nurse's help, then the baby was taken on to be weighed and have her little footprints taken. Jenna was happy it was a girl, but she knew not to get attached. She lay back and cried, but these tears weren't necessarily happy. She was happy the baby was healthy, yes, but she knew what she had to do next.

When the nurse approached with the little pink bundle, Jenna shook her head, "I can't. I can't keep her, and it'll only hurt more if I hold her again."

The nurse nodded and returned her to a plastic basket to the side of the room. It reminded Jenna of a plastic container like you'd put junk in, but she pushed that thought away as she called the nurse back. With tears in her eyes she went forward with the next part of her plan:

"I want to give her up for adoption, but can you call a specific person first?" Jenna asked. The nurse nodded without speaking. Jenna grinned, "Call my mother. You can tell her everything, but I can't have her knowing where I live. I just can't do that to her or myself. I don't think I can leave yet, but she can."

"I'll see what I can do. A social worker will come in, and they'll know how things work. Because she's family, it shouldn't be that hard," the nurse said. Jenna felt relief. She knew she was making progress, but there was one last thing to do.

After being moved into a small recovery room, Jenna was seen by the doctor one last time. Jenna asked if she could lie to her boyfriend about the baby, and the doctor and nurses agreed that whatever she told him was her business. So, when she was alone, she made the call. Frank answered on the first ring.

"How is she? How is my baby?" Frank demanded.

"It's me, Jenna. I—I—The baby didn't make it," she sobbed, using her pent up emotion from putting her baby up for adoption to make the tears come. She became inconsolable, and Frank bought it. He was upset about the loss, but Jenna knew it was about the possession aspect of their relationship. He was upset that he'd lost something else that he could control, but Jenna knew what she was doing. That would keep him from treating her too badly for a while, but most of all, her baby would never have to know her dreadful father and his abusive ways.

Muffy was sitting in the living room staring out over the city when Maria came in. It was mid-morning on a work day, and Maria studied her carefully before taking a seat nearby. A distinct buzzing was coming from the room where Muffy slept, but both girls ignored it.

"So, why aren't you going to work?" Maria asked as she pulled off her shoes and rubbed her aching feet.

A devious smile formed on Muffy's lips, "I'm quitting, but I haven't thought of what to tell Daddy yet. Besides, I need to call my new boss and tell him I'll take the job. You know him," Muffy said, turning to Maria, "and he's got something good worked out. I'd be a fool not to take him up on the offer."

"Your client offered you a job? Wow, I'm happy for you," Maria smiled, genuinely envious of her friend. "I have good news too. My exam was finally scheduled, so I go in next week to take it. I could be a real lawyer soon, and then I'm going to open my own business and put all this escorting behind me. What about you? Are you going to stop?" Maria asked, moving to a couch across from Muffy and looking her over.

Muffy smirked again, "I haven't decided. He said I still could, and I've been enjoying it so far. We'll just have to see what happens since I'll be traveling a lot. Maybe I can find someone who does international gigs."

"Oh she does, through contacts of course," Maria replied, looking out over the city, "It's different elsewhere. Some of the places say it's illegal unless it was planned elsewhere, but you'll learn the rules. I can't believe you picked it up so quickly. It took me a little while to be so comfortable with it, and even now I still struggle. You're a natural, I guess, but you have a little more motivation. I just need to get to my dream, but you need to get away from the people on the other side of that phone."

"And most of all, I need to get back at them for treating me the way they did," Muffy said with a dark tone, looking over the city, "Metropolis and a corporate job were my two dreams, and while Daddy gave me those dreams, he also ruined them in the same instant. My new boss knows that, and he already ended his contract with him. Now that he's doing more overseas, he'll be getting Daddy that way too. If I keep up what I'm doing and spread the truth about my father to his other clients, I can continue to hit him where it hurts."

"I forgot how determined you could be," Maria admitted, remembering their school days. Muffy had calmed down before high school, and even before middle school for certain situations. Now she had her old spark back, and Maria knew this wouldn't be good for Muffy's family.

And they knew her choices weren't good either. They knew her new positions were going to backfire, and they wanted her back right this instant. They kept calling and calling until the phone finally died, its battery depleted from taking so many missed calls while on the loudest vibration setting.

Ladonna was working on cleaning the front sidewalk when she heard a familiar whistle. She turned to see AL strolling up the sidewalk with a grin on her face. She stopped and pulled a small piece of index card from her pocket:

"You know, it bothered me all last night that we didn't exchange numbers. I made a point to come out here and give you mine today. You text me right now so I can get yours, unless your boss has a problem with it," AL winked.

"Naw, I was just about to take lunch in the park. One of the nurses made potato salad and pulled-pork sandwiches, so I figured I'd bring a bag today. We can split it if you'd like," Ladonna offered, stepping inside.

AL followed her and shook her head, "Nope, I'm a growing girl. Half a sandwich and a portion of potato salad, even good ol' Southern portions, ain't enough for me. Besides, I've got my own sandwich packed. I found this deli-style roast beef stuff in the grocery store and fell in love with it. I have six of these sandwiches a week at least, and I'd eat 'em all three meals if I could," she laughed, waving to Beverly, "And I'll be getting somethin' from you when we're done."

"Oh no, you'll be taking this extra order of cake pops with you," Beverly insisted. Ladonna remembered them from yesterday—a client didn't remember ordering them with her son's birthday cake (which was green and shaped like a t-rex), so she refused them. Beverly tried to sell them, but her desire for fresh product meant today they needed to go. Ladonna was the obvious choice, but now that AL was with her, she could help her eat them.

After thanking Beverly, the two walked a few blocks over to a small park. After finding a shady spot, the girls pulled out their lunch from their bags. They finished their sandwiches in record time, then AL leaned back on to enjoy a bag of chips while Ladonna used a leftover plastic spoon from takeout to eat her portion of takeout.

"I wanted to find you today for a reason," AL said, popping a chip in her mouth to hold Ladonna's attention. She swallowed and smiled softly, "You're the first person who didn't give me The Look when I told you about Michael. I can't believe we ever stopped talkin' because you're the only one. You should'a seen the look on Momma's face when I told her."

"I bet she was devastated," Ladonna whispered, "You said you were so young—"

"Oh no, that wasn't the problem. She had this little glint in her eye that screamed 'I told you so!' She's been badgering us girls for years that we'd all end up just like her, poppin' out babies and pleasin' a man. When I got pregnant, she told me I'd be a barefoot wife with ten kids in no time. I couldn't let that happen to me, not that anyone around here cared," AL said, pausing to eat another chip before looking up, "People know about your problems now. Have they come over?"

"Well Beverly brought a pie, but most people seem to be keepin' their distance," Ladonna said, looking up from her potato salad, "Nobody's the same around here anymore, huh?"

"Nope. They couldn't give a rat's ass 'bout anybody but themselves," AL said with a harsh tone, sitting up, "Some of these people were happy I got pregnant, namely because I didn't make it a secret about who I was givin' my baby too. I guess they figured I'd be alright because I had a plan, and Catherine would get a baby. And everyone treats Michael like he's hers, which I love. He should never know. I gave Catherine my records about my health, everything I could, and she agreed to lie if he ever ended up with Great Auntie's leg problem or somethin' else."

"How are people to you though?"

"I don't exist," AL whispered, shaking her head, "Not one bit of me shows up in people's eyes no more. Those friends you saw me with are from out of town. That's who I mingle with now. I'm living between here and there, so I figured I'd spend most of my time there. People here ain't the same no more, and Michael proved that. He only exists because of Catherine. Everybody loves Catherine."

"So I guess they put me out'a sight, out'a mind because we left, huh?" Ladonna asked. AL nodded firmly in slow movements. Ladonna sighed, "I knew somethin' was up. That care facility seems really nice though. I don't need the community's help if I got them."

"You could use them to check up on her, make sure them people are treatin' her right," AL said, but Ladonna told her about the security system. AL nodded, "See, you knew already to cover your own ass. I liked that about you. You were always so smart and attentive to detail. No wonder you want to be a secretary."

"I don't know about that anymore," Ladonna admitted, "Being away from it all this time to take care of Momma changed my mind a little, but I don't know what it changed it to. I figure I'll finish up and work with Beverly, then I'll figure it out later."

AL shook her head, "There is no later. You're already pushing things by taking time off from your studies. No, if you want to change your mind, you start lookin' now. Beverly and I can help you find something. Maybe you can learn to bake like her," AL said, picking up the container with the cake pops and pulling the lid. She inhaled deeply, "You'd be fat as an overdue heifer but you'd be happy as all get out."

Ladonna and AL picked up a cake pop each and took a bite of the moist cake. Both were chocolate with light vanilla icing and green dinosaur-shaped sprinkles, and both were sweet enough to cause them both to crack a smile.

When they were done, AL walked her back to the shop and made sure Ladonna texted her. AL didn't want to lose touch, but she wouldn't be in town for at least a week. Ladonna knew she'd be back now. Besides, they had a mission. They had to find Ladonna a new calling.

Bitzi attempted to focus on the work in front of her. In between other assignments she was piecing together the article for Belinda Barnes about the hospital, but her mind was also focused on Richard. The seminar was approaching fast, but their conversation the previous night made her wonder if the seminar would even take place. He was concerned because he'd gotten a call from an organizer who didn't leave a message. He would have to wait for them to call back, he decided, and Bitzi agreed.

But now that she was at work and had several hours between then and now, she was concerned about how things were playing out. She found herself curious, namely because she'd done seminars just like the one he planned to attend. In fact, she normally attended at least five a year thanks to Metropolis's thriving market. She knew they were always explicit with how things were if they were legitimate, and the seminar Richard was going to was indeed legitimate.

Finally it was too much. Bitzi pulled up her favorite web browser and searched for the seminar's website. She found it quickly, namely because there was recent big news: Their Metropolis seminar had been cancelled pending problems with their speakers. As soon as it was resolved, the seminar would be rescheduled.

Bitzi knew this was also a common seminar problem—the one speaker you need cancels for whatever reason and you're left telling hundreds of people to go away for a while despite having their money. People were upset, and Bitzi soon discovered why: The seminar was cancelled over two months ago.

Anger swept over her. That meant he knew the seminar was cancelled, yet he was planning on using it as an excuse to meet her, and now as an excuse to not meet her. Bitzi was upset and wanted answers. She pulled up her work to continue on that as best as she could, but her phone was in her lap. She texted Richard with what she knew would get his attention: **we need to talk.**

The answer was immediate, and Bitzi wasted none of his time. She found out about the seminar and knew what he was trying to pull. She demanded an apology, plus a reason to even continue talking to him. She hated saying this. Richard had become one of her favorite things in the world in the short time they'd known each other, and she didn't want to end it entirely and lose a friend, plus a lover.

But he had betrayed her, lied to her, and now she knew the truth. She had to give Richard the ultimatum: Meet anyway or forget it.

Richard froze. For hours Bitzi's phone only buzzed from other notifications. She eventually turned it off and slammed it into her desk, furious at the day's events in her personal life. But she returned her focus to her work. Her standard articles needed to be edited and organized into the upcoming issues, plus she needed to write and formulate Belinda's article. That one needed the most attention because of the bombshell within, and Bitzi decided that was her way out. She'd leave her phone off all weekend, and if anyone asked, including Richard, she'd tell them about her whistleblowing exclusive article and what she had to do to get it ready in time for the Sunday edition.

Bitzi smiled. It was devious, but only she knew about that article and its origin, making it the perfect excuse.

Belinda was nervous. The weekend flew past, but she knew the article had hit the newsstands on Sunday as Bitzi said it would. The local news immediately pulled her in for an interview, an interview they played over and over again for all of Elwood City to see. Belinda's whistleblowing made everyone aware of the hospital's issues, and now everyone was talking. She was worried about being discovered, but she had to pretend all was normal.

So after dropping Mei-Lin off for her final exams, she pulled into a coffee shop. The drive-thru line was wrapped around the building but the inside of the shop looked fairly empty, so Belinda parked. She eyed the time before turning off the car. She had plenty of time to sip on a small coffee and have a little more breakfast before her shift.

After getting a pastry and settling in with her coffee at a table near the back of the shop, Belinda couldn't help but overhear the conversation at the table next to hers, a conversation that revolved around that hospital article and the repercussions.

"I'm glad that person didn't say who they were. The hospitals' big wigs are going to hate that this came out," the first lady said, stirring her coffee almost violently before taking a cautious sip.

Her friend jumped in with a laugh, "Only because the government will have to get involved."

"The government?" the first asked, dropping in another cream and stirring again.

Her friend nodded, "The government regulates what you can and can't do to employees during changes like this. Apparently this whole 'fire 'em all and get rid of 'em' thing is new news, something that wasn't a part of the deal. If the employees are involved, you have to tell them. It's a conditions thing."

"Wow, I had no idea they could interfere," the first woman said as she sipped her coffee again. She nodded in satisfaction before turning to her friend, "I'm glad they might. I know some people who work over there, and one of them called me after the article broke to tell me it was true. She'll have to go when the changeover happens, but she can't find any other work. The market is at capacity for nurses and similar medical staff. There just aren't enough facilities to take them because they're already full."

"Which means they won't be able to hire in people, especially if they bar the others from reapplying for their jobs—"

"At lower pay," the first woman interrupted, gulping her coffee a moment before looking up again, "They'll never be able to do it now, whatever they were planning. Now that the community knows and the government knows so they can step in, they won't be able to go through with it."

The friend smiled, "That's why that person came forward then. Whoever they are, they did everyone a huge favor."

Belinda was happy upon hearing that, but she still knew that she had to be extremely careful. Things might work out for her former coworkers, but they would only work out for her if her identity remained a heavily guarded secret.

Anita was working in her office on the same task she'd been on for days: Finding another property for her business without Doria's help. She was looking at a new strip mall to see if the stores were large enough to support her counter, a small office, a freezer unit, and a decent amount of seating for her customers, preferably both inside and outside the store. She smiled as she saw photos of happy people sipping coffee on a paver stone patio at another unit of the mall. The space would be perfect, but only if she could negotiate a better price than the one listed.

As her smile turned to a frown, she heard someone knock on the glass. A helper who was cleaning the dining room came to get Anita, who nodded and stepped out. She was both surprised and disappointed to see Doria Walters standing outside the door begging to come inside. Anita reluctantly unlocked the door and allowed her inside.

"I need to talk to you. Why haven't you called me about renegotiating that deal?" Doria demanded in a harsh tone. The helper made herself scarce in the back, and Anita hoped the poor girl hadn't locked herself in the freezer to escape Doria's fiery presence.

Anita sighed, knowing this would all have to come out eventually, "Well, you seemed to be struggling with Metropolis buyers, so I decided to look around myself. I thought it would be difficult, so I planned on calling you this week to try again."

"But?" Doria asked.

"But…I've found some good things on my own, and I feel it's best that I take the offers I've found for the betterment of my business," Anita replied.

Doria was livid, "Now you're turning on me too, over what? Your graphics needed work! I fixed them!"

"Without permission from the artist or from me," Anita added firmly. "Those are trademarked items. You couldn't change them without possibly getting me into legal trouble. I've had someone come to me before saying I copied their logos. I couldn't take the chance of them being right just because you decided to tweak some things. You can't do that to people."

"I can do whatever I want with my clients. It says so in every contract—full artistic discretion," Doria quoted.

Anita shook her head firmly, "I haven't signed anything with you, and I don't intend to with the way you're acting now. It's business, Doria. You know that. That's probably why you've tried to change things. You think you can make them better, and I'll give you credit, you can with some things around here, but not my business. You leave that to me."

"You're making a huge mistake," Doria hissed, pulling out her phone and leaving the store.

Anita relocked the door and looked up the street. The helper nervously emerged from the back, and she too joined Anita at the door. They both watched as Doria wrote an angry post about her business using her phone and the social media app of her choice. When she was done, she stomped up to a bench nearby and began again. She was spreading the word, and Anita felt herself get tense.

The helper tapped her arm, "It won't work. One of my friends said her mom had a meeting this weekend but she didn't say what until she got back. It was a group that formed on behalf of her daughter. They got her a huge publishing deal. Her mother is about to lose the greatest thing that she thinks ever happened to her. The new publishers are thinking of suing on Fern's behalf if she gets enough support."

"Which she will," Anita muttered, remembering the gossip she'd been hearing all over town wherever she went. She expected to hear things about her husband, but it was Fern's book everyone was talking about, not her husband's DUI sentencing to rehab.

This news made her feel better. The community would support any and all of Doria's targets, including her little homegrown ice cream shop. Anita was content with this and returned to her office, eying the listing again. It was too much, but she had to put in an offer on her own and see what happened. She contacted the agent and left a message knowing he'd get back to her, knowing her offer would get approved.

Molly's determination kept her going as treatments continued. As she entered the dentist's office for the first time with her degree, which she felt was handed to her still, she knew this was the start of something better despite her condition. She signed in and headed into the dentist's office. Molly found her eating some leftover Chinese food. Molly was torn between nausea and envy because of her lack of breakfast, but she sat in front of her knowing what was coming.

"I can finally hire you full time, but I was thinking of limiting your schedule. You'll make the same that you've been making because you'll only work the day of your treatments until it's time, then you'll have the next day off," the dentist said, pausing to shove a bite of food into her mouth. She chewed slowly to give Molly a chance to respond.

Part of her was angry again over the special treatment, but she knew this was a viable option. She was fine the day of treatment because it hadn't happened yet, but the day after? It was a coin flip. Sometimes she was perfectly fine and had plenty of energy, but other days she felt drained. On one of those days Rattles had to help her into the house, and she was torn about asking him to help her in the bathroom. She decided against it, but she had to sit for an hour on the toilet while she willed herself to get up. She nearly pitched forward when she stood to lift her pants, so she left them off, walking half naked to bed and diving under the covers. Eventually she was fine to dress herself, but she knew what this meant: One day she would actually fall. One day she would actually need help in the restroom.

Molly pushed that from her mind now and forced a smile onto her lips, "That sounds great. I go on Mondays and Wednesdays right now. I might have to do Friday treatments too but I'll let you know."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear from you. You'll get through this, Molly. I just know you will," she smiled, taking in another bite. Rather than watch her eat, Molly went into the employee breakroom and found a pound cake from the week before. It was still good, so she cut a tiny piece and picked at it with a spoon. Half of it went down while the rest crumbled and became too much for her to handle. Molly was still pleased though. She had eaten again, and so far it was staying where she put it. Plus she was fulltime now pending her condition. There was nothing to complain about despite that memory, despite knowing what was likely to come.

Prunella was browsing a book shop near her apartment. They sold used books they received from donations, and thanks to Elwood City's large group of readers, the store was always getting in new stock. As she turned into the science-fiction section, she found some library books Mrs. Turner likely donated. She grabbed one and felt herself smile. She had checked the book out during high school, but she couldn't remember if she liked it or not. She decided to buy now and read later, then decide. She could always trade it for another one if she had her receipt.

As she exited the store with her new find, Prunella noticed a man wearing all white standing at a bus stop. He was looking at a brochure like he was a tourist, but he was looking around some too. When his eyes fell on her, he closed the brochure and walked towards her.

Prunella knew to ignore him. She kept walking with the man behind her, but she didn't quicken her pace. She kept walking, but she did go past her apartment to a small food cart up the street. The beginning of summer's heat meant shaved ice carts were popping up over the city, and Prunella decided a passion fruit shaved ice would make her day better.

She ordered and remained focused on the vender as he scooped shaved ice into a white Styrofoam cup. He poured syrup over the ice and knocked the cup on the side of his cart. When the syrup settled and the top became a light pink color, he poured more on top, turning it a dark fuchsia color. Prunella was pleased and turned with her find. As she expected, the guy was gone and replaced with a heavy-set woman Prunella often saw around her apartment. Prunella nodded politely and went to her building, rushing to her room and locking her treat in her freezer.

Prunella knew what she had to do. She called Dr. Mano and got his assistant. Prunella left a message that was a lie—she said she wanted to know about Rubella's condition, but instead she needed to ask him some questions of her own. She was getting enough sleep and her stress levels were down, but she kept seeing people that weren't real. And when she thought about it, she wondered if the conversations she sometimes heard from her neighbors were real, if the arguments in the street at four a.m. had any truth to them.

As she waited for the call, Prunella felt the worry come. How much of her life was real and how much was fake? She had no idea if she was sick like her mother and sister, but she could tell things weren't as they should be. She needed Dr. Mano's help, and thankfully he was quick to answer his messages.

"Hello, Prunella, it's Dr. Mano. My assistant said you had questions about your sister?" he said, his tone showing he was asking, not telling.

Prunella laughed nervously, "Actually, I just…I couldn't tell her the truth. I…I've been having delusions. I know the people I see aren't real because people saw me interact with one and no one was there, and I just…I need your help."

"This is very common, more common than many people realize because science is still so new despite being hundreds of years old," Dr. Mano smiled, "Your mother and sister have similar issues, but you at least realize what's going on. I think an office visit and some medication could help you, and we'll take an out-patient approach until the need arises for something else. I'll schedule an appointment for…next Tuesday at eleven. Can you do that?"

"Yes, of course," Prunella nodded, knowing this was her only choice at the moment. She thanked Dr. Mano immensely before ending the call. She sighed with relief, knowing things were finally going to get fixed and she could hopefully get back to normal.

Marina could feel the tensions rising. The school's board was meeting that afternoon, not for usual business. It was an emergency meeting scheduled at the end of the year, and teachers were worried that it was the meeting that would end the school completely. Marina knew this was likely, but they could also be discussing Anthony's father's offer and whether or not they should take it.

She tried to focus on her work for the day and the next, but it was excruciating for her and everyone else. As per always, the school was being super secretive with their goings-on, and Marina knew that could be both a good and a bad thing all at the same time. Their silence could be because they were ashamed to take a buy out from someone they publically rejected before, but it could also be because they were waiting for the best possible time to tell everyone to forget it. Marina could almost hear them telling her the school would be closing at the end of the year indefinitely.

As the day ended, she tried to go about her typical business, but it was the end of the year. Nothing was typical as kids became antsy for summer, and because many classes were ending and showing videos instead of lessons, the atmosphere was already charged. The room was messier as she moved through it, her cane finding balled up paper and stray cups from snacks she allowed in the room. Her usual end-of-the-day cleaning took moments longer, and she soon realized it was just long enough for a message to come over the intercom: Faculty and staff were requested in the gym for a mandatory meeting.

Marina immediately joined the people in the hallway. Everyone seemed to somehow be in the building, and they anxiously moved into the auditorium to hear whatever the school had to say.

"For better or worse," they said, but they all knew it could be worse, which would put their special needs students back in public schools that may or may not meet their needs. They could be out of the job, many of them having to leave the area to find a similar job in their field. Even the cafeteria workers would be displaced if the school shut down, though the janitors would just get a new assignment from their parent company.

Marina pushed it out of her mind as she settled into a seat between two muttering math teachers who whispered to themselves more than anyone else.

As one of the few fully blind teachers, Marina didn't see that the entire board was on the stage, sitting patiently as they stared at nothing, be it on the floor or the wall or on the ceiling. None of them could look the crowd in the eye, but them being there together caused everyone to sit on the edge of their seats. Whatever this meeting was about, it was big.

Finally the headmaster approached the stage. He lightly tapped the microphone, a sound the echoed through the room and got everyone to quiet down.

"Thank you all for joining me. I know you're all wrapping things up in your classrooms in preparation for summer vacation, but I felt today was the perfect time to make a very important announcement concerning the future of this establishment. It's no secret that the school has major budget shortfalls that our benefactors cannot make up for, and the school has struggled in the past to meet certain gaps in our budget for this reason.

"Recently an offer came in from another private school owner, a person who has made us an offer before that we refused, thinking this could go on much longer with what we already have. I'm afraid this can't go on any longer. This year will be the final year this school, as we know it, will have," he paused as a collective hiss of intaken breath filled the air.

He continued after a moment that went on for what felt like eternity, "We've accepted his offer because we want to do what's best for our students and all of you. You will all be included in the deal as well, and you may find new employees joining your ranks. He assures me budget shortfalls will be overcome with government grants that are already in motion thanks to some dutiful teachers working secretly without our knowledge. Marina Datillo? Anthony Johnson? Will the two of you please stand to take credit for your work?"

Marina blushed. It was more Mary's work than either of them, but she knew that she'd set the wheels in motion, and accepting Anthony as an ally made everything happen. The crowd clapped for them, realizing this without them saying a word. They were grateful, and as the room cleared, Marina could tell that now the buzzed energy from the students anticipating summer vacation was now transferred to them, the buzzed energy from finding out you'd keep your job and your students for an indefinite amount of time.

Carla rolled over with a groan as the phone rang again. Five rings at two in the morning meant something, and as she remembered her missing pregnant daughter, she knew to answer the phone immediately.

"Carla Morgan, this is Elwood City General Hospital—"

"Oh god, what's happened?" Carla choked, almost punching her husband as she attempted to wake him. The first blow did it and soon both were sitting up in bed with the bedside lamps on to illuminate the room.

"Ma'am, we have a baby here for you," the woman said with a business-like tone.

Carla felt tears come to her eyes as she relayed the message to her husband, "A baby, for us."

They were needed at the hospital as soon as possible, and as they dressed, the two thought about their journey. Unbeknownst to Jenna, the two wanted as many children as they could have when they first got together. Jenna was a miracle baby, the product of five years of trying. After her birth, the trying continued as soon as they were able, but no other babies came.

So, as they watched their daughter blossom from preteen into a young adulthood, they applied to become foster parents. They only wanted babies, but their lack of certification meant they weren't accepted, but they were put on a long adoption waitlist. Carla knew they were as far from the top as they possibly could be, and this was the first time a call like this had ever come through.

As they drove to the hospital, the two of them pieced together the puzzle without being told. This baby was Jenna's baby, whether anyone would admit it or not. She demanded her mother take the baby, or worse.

They needed answers, and as they found where they needed to be at the hospital, they found the answers readily available. This was indeed Jenna's baby, but she was fine. She wanted them to have the child, and a gossipy nurse told them in the nursery that Jenna told her significant other that the baby was dead. She even asked them to run a notice in her name, but no one was to know the truth except her parents.

They took this burden, knowing their daughter was making the best choice that she could in her situation. They wished silently that she had come too, but upon seeing the glowing baby girl, they knew she likely felt there was unfinished business in the home, business she could handle. Carla hoped she could as she took the baby in her arms, looking up to husband.

"She needs a name. Do you remember any good ones?" Carla asked.

He laughed, "Well, a few come to mind. What do you think? We have to decide now, so we can't be too rash about this. It's going to follow her the rest of her life."

"I know," Carla said, looking down to the pink-wrapped bundle. "I was thinking…Ana. Jenna always loved that name, Ana Marie. She saw it somewhere and fell in love with it."

"She saw it in one of those books on Spain when she was writing that report," her husband confirmed, "and she instantly wanted to name her daughter that. I think it's perfect, and I agree that it's a good name. And it'll remind us of her until she gets home again."

The two agreed, and after dealing with a mound of paperwork, the couple was allowed to take home the baby that night. They needed a carrier, so Carla was left alone in the hospital while her husband sought one out at what was now five a.m. He returned soon after with a carrier, more formula and diapers, plus a few balloons. He said all new babies should come home surrounded by balloons, and the manager at the Walmart he went to was too happy for him to let him leave without them.

So surrounded by balloons and the love of her grandparents, Ana Marie went home without a care in the world.

A/N: Alright, it's the end of another chapter (though I just mass-posted all I have), and I have some news for you guys. For the record, it's about 9:30 in the morning here on the fifteenth of May as I write this a-n, and I've made a decision. So, I've had an original idea nagging at me for a while (two months? Maybe longer. I remembered having it during a trip up to Atlanta during Grandma's stuff, so it was either before or after she died, so around two months now). I've fleshed it out and I really want to work on it, but I can't do two projects at once.

So, though I absolutely _hate_ to do this, I need to put Not Done Yet on hiatus. It's in a state where I can easily jump back into it thanks to my outline and an idea stockpile I've started, and I'm sure I can get back into it if I need to. Plus you guys need more time to read it, so maybe you'll all catch up while I write.

There it is then: **Not Done Yet is officially on hiatus.**

What to expect later? Okay, I'll tell you my idea: I'm thinking of jumping ahead a month or so, maybe 90 days. David and James Powers will be out of rehab and adjusting to life outside that island of support, Kate will have had her surgery, Jenna will be at home with Frank, Molly will be deep into treatment, Bitzi's romance issues will have time to fester, Doria's problems will probably be worse while Fern's are better—everyone will be at a different point that I think I can really work with easily when I start back writing. I've been thinking of this while I wrote the last part of this chapter, and I think that's what I'm going to do, a two month time jump to the heart of summer. Hope you guys like it, and follow this story so you'll get a message as soon as I start posting again.

And no, I'm not telling any of you my original idea. Sorry, that's just personal policy numero uno.


End file.
